Making Sweet Lemonade
by MyInnerVoiceDick
Summary: In which James and Lily are alive, Neville is thought to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has an older twin brother named Nolan, and Draco wants to shag Harry senseless. Let the drama commence. Oh. Of course Severus will be in it too. SLASH HP/DM
1. Chapter 1

Making Sweet Lemonade

Summary: In which James and Lily are alive, Neville is thought to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has an older twin brother named Nolan, and Draco wants to shag Harry senseless. Let the drama commence. Oh. Of course, Severus will be in it too. Because I love me some Severus.

Warnings: AU: Obviously. OC: Nolan. But he's cool. I promise. OOC: Because I can. SLASH: Mmm. Yummy. VIOLENCE: Although no paddles are involved. I think. SEXUALITY: Also, possibly non-con. Because I'm a pervert that way. ALCOHOL USE: Designated drivers are the shit. LANGUAGE: Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuck. GENERAL WEIRDNESS: Because we all are. Generally weird, that is.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe no matter how much I really, really want to. However, Nolan is all mine. So there. I also disclaim any poor grammar, spelling. It's not mine. I swear.

A/N: You're still here? Well, what are you reading my bullshit note for? Get on with the story. Oh, and review, or flame, or whatever it is you do. Please.

Harry was pissed. And that definitely wasn't good considering the fact that it was an ongoing joke with his year-mates that someone could probably kick him in the face, briefly apologize, walk away and Harry wouldn't even make a fuss. Not that any of his friends would do that. Harry was nice. Plus, his brother would probably kick their asses. Anyway, trying his damnedest to ignore the bitter smell in the air that even half the bottle of air freshener couldn't completely cover, Harry manage to flush the source of the putrid smell down the toilet. Not bothering to stick around and watch the bowl full of vomit go down the drain, Harry carefully stepped over the passed out body in the bathroom.

Needing to find his brother, he made his way through the maze of people on the staircase and began his search in the living room. It didn't take long to find him. His brother was busy jumping up and down on a coach, flailing his arms wildly as if playing an imaginary guitar. Pushing pass the crowd bopping to the real music, not the fake stuff his brother thought he was making, Harry grabbed the bottom of his brother's shirt and with a yank, pulled him down to the floor. Landing on his feet, but stumbling quite a bit, his brother turned around, looking confused and angry. Until he recognized Harry.

"Har!" he exclaimed in a voice louder than it needed to be. "Fin'ly found ya. I been looking fer ya." Although his words were understandable, they were moderately slurred. Before Harry could respond, he found himself wrapped in his brother's strong arms. He was being hugged in an alarmingly tight grip. "I loves ya, brother!"

Struggling to breathe, Harry pushed at his brother's chest. "Get off, Nolan!"

With a distressed shove, Harry finally managed to dislodge himself from his brother's arms. Nolan just looked confused. He grabbed his clearly irate brother's shoulders and brought his face down so he could look straight into Harry's. "What's matta', Har?" He asked, tone revealing some hurt.

Harry just chose to glare into his brother's chocolate brown eyes, so unlike his own bright emerald ones. "There are lots of things the matter right now, Nolan. First of all, there has got to be at least a hundred people here right now, and they are all wrecking the house. Also, you're drunk off your ass and being no help what-so-ever. And most importantly, Ron just passed out in mom and dad's private bathroom!"

Nolan could only stare at Harry, clearly not comprehending. "Wha'?"

Harry resisted the urge to yell. Instead, he took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and counted to ten. When he reopened his eyes, Nolan was still looking at him, concerned. Harry spoke very slowly, very patiently. "Will you," he paused and pointed to Nolan, "go upstairs," he pointed up," and help me," he pointed to himself, "move Ron into my bedroom?"

Nolan looked to be concentrating very hard. Finally, he spoke. "Wait, wha'?"

Surely, Nolan was saved from the punch he was undoubtedly going to receive by the owner of the next voice. "I'll help, Harry."

The voice's owner, no surprise to Harry, was Neville Longbottom. In other words, the Boy-Who-Lived. The Savior of the Wizarding World. Also known as the boy who's been chasing after Harry for the past two years. It had only been brought to his attention this summer. Harry had been horrified.

Not because Neville was a guy. Harry was gay and everyone was well aware of it considering he had dated Cedric Diggory during his fourth year. No one had been too happy with that revelation. Again, not because they were both males. It was the three year gap in their ages that had Harry's family, in particular, worried. Three years were hardly anything for wizards. However, it apparently became something quite large when one of the wizards was only fourteen. James, more than anyone, had been quite happy when that relationship had ended along with school. Harry didn't like to talk about why.

No, it wasn't Neville's gender that turned Harry off. Or his looks for that matter. In fact, once Neville's baby fat had disappeared, he had grown into quite the fit and handsome young man. At fifteen, he now stood at an acceptable height of 5'10". Not quite Nolan's 5'11", but quite a bit taller than Harry's miniscule 5'5".

No, Neville's gender and looks were not the problem. It was the way he carried himself. Harry couldn't stand the holier-than-thou attitude. It was quite obvious to him that Neville thought he was perfect and that the whole world, Harry included, owed him for something he did when he was one. Despite Neville's arrogance though, Harry had always tried to be nice to him. He didn't like to cause problems. It just wasn't in his nature. That is why Harry very hesitantly agreed to Neville's help.

Somehow the two teens made it passed the bodies crammed in the living room and on the stairs and to the entry way of the bathroom Harry had abandoned his friend in. Neville, to Harry's annoyance, couldn't hold back a quick bark of laughter at seeing Ron's prone body on the cold, tiled floor. "He's had a rough night, has he?"

Instead of replying, Harry merely offered Neville a strained smile before maneuvering around Ron's body so he stood by his head. Bending over at the waist, he grabbed Ron's wrists. He looked expectantly at Neville. "Well, grab his ankles, I guess," he instructed Neville when he didn't make a move to help.

Acting as if Harry hasn't even spoken, Neville just stared, making Harry feel very uncomfortable. Finally Neville asked, "So what did poor Ron drink to get him so bloody wasted?"

Realizing he would have to converse with Neville if he expected him to be of assistance, Harry sighed, laid Ron's arms back down on the floor, and straightened up . "Not sure, really. I found him up here puking his guts out. Don't know where he got the idea to do it in my parent's private restroom. Bastard." Harry grinned good-naturedly. "Anyways, I stayed with him to make sure he was okay. And to make sure he didn't end up vomiting on the floor."

Neville smiled in a way Harry supposed the guy thought was charming. "You're such a good friend, Harry." Then a brief pause. "I bet you'd make an ever better boyfriend."

Now how in the name of Merlin was he supposed to take that comment? "Err…sure."

Neville chuckled while attempting to get passed Ron to make his way further into the spacious bathroom. And closer to Harry. What in the world was Harry supposed to do now? Before he could decide, he found his head unexpectedly surrounded by Neville's arms. The teen was leaning over so he was nose to nose with Harry. Also, his feet were on either side of Ron's head. "It really sounds like you haven't had that great off a night Harry. Don't fret though, I'm sure I can make it better."

Harry was positive that was the alcohol-induced confidence speaking. He cleared his throat. "Uh, actually, it hasn't been too terrible. Just the whole Ron passing out thing got me a little worked up. I'm sure I'll get over it. Nothing some yummy left over tuna casserole can't fix up. Don't worry about it."

Harry imagined he would have found this situation (the whole talking about tuna while practically getting groped thing) pretty damn hilarious if he wasn't involved in it. Neville only chuckled at his rambling and let his face, and consequently lips, get closer to Harry's own. Harry backed up as much as possible. He hit a wall. What to do? "Um…Neville?"

Having Harry trapped, Neville asked, voice gruff, "Yea, babe?"

Acting fast, Harry did the only thing he could think of that didn't involve hurting Longbottom's feelings. He brought one hand up to his own mouth and used the other to push away Neville, who in response nearly tripped over Ron's big head. Neville looked gab smacked. Still, Harry clutched the bottom half of his face with his left hand. Through his fingers, he whispered, "I think I'm going to be sick." Without further ado, he launched himself at the toilet, immediately making gagging sounds.

It took nothing more than that to get Neville to scramble out of there, making stuttered promises to get Nolan. With Neville gone, Harry was safe to pull himself off the toilet and let out a huge, relieved sigh. Praise Merlin that the Savior of the Wizarding World couldn't stand the sight of throw up.

Harry turned his attention to the body on the hard floor. Ron. He looked pathetic and helpless. Still feeling obligated to help his friend, Harry made his way towards the bathroom entrance and grabbed Ron by the ankles. "Sorry mate, you might be a bit sore in the morning."

He then proceeded to drag Ron's heavy body from the bathroom and across the upstairs hallway to his room. Luckily, there were only a handful of curious bystanders.

Two more witnesses were added to that handful when he entered his room to find a couple, two to-be seventh years he only half recognized, making out on his bed. Harry's face transformed into a scowl. "Out. Now."

The girl seemed particularly embarrassed and tugged her boyfriend out of there, muttering a soft "sorry" to Harry on the way out. Even though he was utterly exhausted, Harry somehow managed to get Ron into the bed and even covered him with a soft comforter.

"Ahem." Harry startled and turned to the open door, surprised to see an observer. Draco Malfoy. Just when he thought the night couldn't get any worse. "What are you doing here?" Harry questioned, irritated, but too tired to add any real malice to his voice.

Malfoy's seemingly permanent smirk just grew larger than it already was. "I'm a Malfoy. I can be wherever I want."

"Except here," Harry replied immediately. "Now get out of my room. And my house for that matter."

The blonde raised an eyebrow in response. "Manners, Potter. No need to be callous."

"Fuck off."

A chuckle escaped from Malfoy's gullet and a low growl from Harry's. "I'd only expect that language from your brother. Not you, baby Potter."

Normally Malfoy's stupid taunts would bounce right off of Harry, but with the night he was already having, they were quickly getting under his skin. And what was worse, he couldn't think of anything intelligent to say back. "I'm not a baby."

"Well, not literally, you twat. But you are the youngest Potter. Even if it is only by an hour or two. Not to mention the fact you get whatever you want."

"I get whatever I want?!"

"Are you deaf or just stupid? I mean, I've formed my own opinion and am most definitely leaning towards option number two, but seriously…which is it?"

"Bloody well just shut up, Malfoy! Besides, you're the one who's a spoiled brat! You even have those two idiots, Crabbe and Goyle, following you around practically acting like your servants."

Harry was well aware that he was yelling and getting worked up, but he didn't very well care at this point. He did care, quite a bit though, when Malfoy was suddenly in his face. "I'm alone now, aren't I?"

Harry tensed; something in Malfoy had abruptly changed. He wasn't fucking around anymore. Finally Malfoy spoke again. "Relax little Potter, I was just yanking your chain." His smirk returned. And Harry was instantly angry again. If he didn't have better control of himself, he would hit Malfoy. In the face. Hard.

"First of all Malfoy, don't call me little. And secondly, most importantly, go away!"

Malfoy just grinned impishly. "I only called you small because you are. I'm at least eight inches taller than your scrawny ass. Also, no. I don't really feel like leaving you alone just yet. You're entertaining when you're mad."

Entertaining? No. Harry was not entertaining when upset; he was intimidating. Or at least he liked to think so. "Whatever, Malfoy. Just go downstairs. I don't care what you do as long as you're as far away from me as possible." Harry missed the slight frown that crossed the blonde's face in response to the verbal lashing. It quickly shifted back into a confident sneer.

"You just need to loosen up, Potter. Have a little fun. It's your birthday party after all."

"Mine and Nolan's." Harry corrected before adding sarcastically, "And yes, turning fifteen is an excellent reason to get smashed."

"I thought so," Malfoy injected, ignoring the sarcasm.

"Well, I don't," was Harry's fast reply.

"What? You scared or something?"

"Scared of what?" Harry inquired, indignant.

"You tell me, oh brave Gryffindor."

"Fuck. You."

Malfoy only leered and thrust his drink at Harry, eyes challenging him to take it. "Why don't you have some?"

Although far from sober, Nolan hadn't had a drink in an hour or so and was moving out of the phase 'completely shitfaced' and into the phase 'extremely buzzed'. That was when he started worrying about Harry. He hadn't seen him in a while and knew his brother wouldn't be sleeping while a party was happening. He'd be way too anxious to sleep.

Vaguely remembering Neville saying something about Harry and a bathroom on the second floor, he dragged himself up the staircase.

Even drunk, he couldn't help but feel a little badly about the whole thing. The party, that was. Harry strictly didn't drink, while Nolan did occasionally. Even though he hardly drank, he couldn't pass up the opportunity his parents practically hand delivered to him. They were currently on their second honeymoon of sorts. They had left two weeks after Harry's and his fifteenth birthday. A perfect reason to party. Nolan begged Harry for this until his little brother finally, grudgingly, agreed. While he had been excited about the party ever since, he still had felt that pang of guilt. He knew damn well that Harry didn't like this kind of environment.

Finally reaching his parent's bathroom after trudging up the stairs, Nolan opened the door to see nothing. Well, nothing save for the toilet, sink, bath, and the works. No people. Figuring he might as well check his brother's room while he was up there, Nolan made his way down the hallway.

Mind still dazed from alcohol consumption, Nolan unceremoniously pushed open his brother's bedroom door. He was not at all ready for the sight that greeted him. Cold fury washed over him and he saw red. Malfoy was going to die.

Harry couldn't see straight and he wasn't sure if it was because he had lost his glasses or it was those shots of vodka he had been coursed into taking making his vision increasingly blurry. Either way he was desperately clutching his dresser to stop himself from falling.

He was fairly certain Malfoy had left to get more liquor. And for some reason, he felt ridiculously alone in his huge room. Until he remembered Ron. Harry couldn't stop a random giggle from escaping his lips. "Silly Ronnikins!" Harry exclaimed before stumbling across the room, attempting to get to Ron and his bed. He thought he was doing quite well until he tripped over his own two feet. He landed face first on the floor, and even managed to smack his head on his bed frame on the way down. Harry groaned. Cheek pressed against carpet, he muttered, "Sorry Ron. Think I be stayin' here t'night."

Harry was pretty sure he would have fallen asleep just fine where he was if it wasn't for Malfoy coming back and laughing so damn loudly. "'S not funny," Harry slurred, feeling annoyed.

Malfoy's light laughter continued for a while longer before it slowly died off. "No, you really are quite hilarious," Then a soft sigh. "Let me help you up, Potter."

Harry decided his arms felt much too heavy to put up a struggle and didn't protest when he feel Malfoy's hands lift him up by the armpits and then wrap his muscular arms Harry's slim waist. He was half dragged, half carried to the right side of the bed. The half Ron wasn't already occupying.

Eyes closed and mind blurry, Harry was only really aware that someone was pulling off his socks. That someone was also muttering. "You're lucky I like you, little Potter."

"Wha'?" Harry asked, cracking his eyes halfway open. The hands removing his socks froze. "Nothing Potter. You're drunk and hearing things."

"Oh. Okay."

Harry eventually managed to peel his eyes all the way open. Hm. There was a blur of blonde and what locked to be a person attached to it messing with his socks. Definitely Malfoy. Not being able to help himself, Harry spontaneously let out a snigger. Swinging his upper body forward, he managed to grab poor Malfoy around the neck and drag him back downwards with him. Refusing to let go of the blonde's head, Harry giggled some more.

Not aware of Malfoy's sudden stiffness, Harry could only smile drunkenly as his hug buddy pried his arms off of around his head. He tried to reach for the blonde again, but soon found his wrists pinned to the mattress by two larger hands. Malfoy was suddenly on top of him, knees on either side of Harry's hips. "Not smart, Potter. Not smart at all." Harry paid no mind to the tense tone.

Instead, he pouted and jutted out his bottom lip. "But, I jus' wan' a hug. 'M cold." There was a yielding sigh from above him.

"Fine." But the voice didn't seem particularly upset. The warmth of another body surrounding him was soon the only thing he could think about. It felt so good. Better than any hug he had ever had before. It was as if his body was hypersensitive. Harry just snuggled further into the lovely warmth. He just couldn't get enough of it. Wanting to be held tighter, he arched his body upward, trying to get even closer to the other body.

When the source of warmth suddenly pulled away, Harry felt terribly cold. A whine emerging from his throat, Harry reached up towards Malfoy and clung. The blonde resisted. For a reason Harry couldn't begin to understand, especially in the state he was in now, Malfoy seemed to b breathing exceptionally heavily. "You don't know what you're doing., Potter. Let go."

Cranking open his eyes that had closed during the long hug, Harry looked up into the handsome face above his. Parting his lips, he only said one thing. It came out as a whimper. "Please."

No one moved for a moment. And then the warmth and comfort was back. Harry shivered as Malfoy warm breath touched his neck. He sounded strange. "Only because you won't remember this in the morning."

Harry pushed Malfoy from him just a little so they could see eye to eye. "I won't?"

Harry thought it was the most natural ting in the world when the blonde rested his forehead on his own, their noses touching. "No, you won't."

Those words, spoken in that hushed tone, made Harry feel suddenly anxious. He didn't want the warmth to go away again! His arms tightened around Malfoy's back. "Then…"

Harry began, but didn't get the chance to finish. Warm lips were suddenly pressed against his own soft ones. Feeling a desperate tongue pushing for entrance into his mouth, Harry immediately complied. The kiss was wet, messy, and frantic. But it felt so good. Harry let out a moan and continued to cling to the boy above him

Neither noticed the door open. "What the fuck is this shit?!"


	2. Chapter 2

Making Sweet Lemonade

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe no matter how much I really, really want to. However, Nolan is all mine. So there. I also disclaim any poor grammar, spelling. It's not mine. I swear.

A/N: Truth be told, I actually had the best intentions to get this out by last Thursday. But, you know, the pavement to hell, and all that rot. Of course, I'd also like to thank my darling reviewers. Without further ado, enjoy. Or else.

"What the fuck is this shit?!"

Nolan watched, face already turning an angry red, as the blonde on top of his little brother whipped his head around to look into the doorway. Their eyes locked. Nolan was not one to mince words. "You're dead, you fucking pervert."

Paying no mind to this brother, Nolan charged into the room, grabbed Malfoy by the collar of his shirt, and forced him off the bed and consequently off of Harry. To his surprise, he met little resistance. Although Nolan was slightly stronger built, Malfoy was by no means weak and about an inch taller. They were pretty evenly matched when in came to fighting. Although Malfoy hadn't put up a struggle getting off the bed, he had no qualms about shoving Nolan off him, making the brown-eyed boy stumble backwards a bit. "Keep your filthy, muggle-loving hands off me, idiot," the blonde hissed at Nolan.

Nolan wasted no time shoving Malfoy back; much like the blonde had just done to him only moments ago. "Keep your damned hands off my brother, dipshit," he shouted.

Eyes gleaming, Malfoy suddenly shot out his hand, grabbed Nolan by the front of his shirt, and dragged him forward so they were looking eye to eye. Smirking, he whispered, "It's hardly my fault baby Potter is a little slut. You should have heard what he was begging me to do to hi-"

Wham! Letting out a fierce growl, Nolan allowed his fist to hit Malfoy square in the face. Eyes still shot from drinking, and nostrils flaring wildly from anger, Nolan greatly resembled some sort of deranged beast. He watched, highly satisfied, but not nearly finished with the blonde, as blood trickled from Malfoy's nose. Nolan didn't have time to wipe the smile from his face before a pale fist plummeted his jaw. The only thing that stopped Nolan's next action, undoubtedly socking Malfoy in the nose once more, was the sound of a thump. Harry was on the floor.

Harry had only managed to moan when the lips that dominated his own were suddenly gone. And he fussed even more when the warmth covering his body was roughly removed. When he finally recognized Nolan as the remover of said warmth, he had felt sick and embarrassed. Even drunk, he still felt horrified as his brown-haired brother and Malfoy starting shoving each other. The yelling, however, was worse than the shoving. The shouting seemed to bang against his eardrums, which in turn thumped his brain, giving Harry a decidedly unpleasant headache. It was all he could do to bury his face, and as a result his ears, into his pillow, and mutter an unheard "shudup."

When the screaming didn't subside, Harry picked up his seemingly lead-filled head and peeled open his eyes. His vision was blurry and he couldn't quite get his brain to concentrate on the two figures in his room. "Shudup," he croaked once more, only to again be ignored by the quarreling boys.

Frustrated that he wasn't being listened to and worried that the situation might escalate even further, Harry knew he would have to get their attention somehow. Groaning from the effort, he managed to get both feet on the floor. Unfortunately, his bum was still planted firmly on the bed. Harry half-heartedly glared at the redhead still unconscious on the other side of his bed. Why didn't the prat have to deal with this too? Knowing this would be the difficult part, Harry used one hand to grab the bed stand for balance, and used the other to push his upper body off the bed. He was able to stand. Victory!

Two seconds later Harry decided victory was rather overrated. Attempting to walk, his first two steps ended in disaster and Harry found himself face-first on the carpet for the second time that night.

"Harry!" A startled and worried voice exclaimed his name. Soon he felt hands on him and got a little nauseous as he was forcefully turned around so that he was staring at the ceiling instead of the floor. Well, he would have been staring at the ceiling if there wasn't a big head in the way. "No'an?"

"Who else would I be, dork?" While he was obviously trying to sound playful, Nolan's voice was undeniably stressed. I didn't help that to Harry his words seemed garbled together in some sort of native language.

"No'an," he asked seriously, "when didja 'earn Spanish?"

There was no reply for a while. The some fingers were shoved in his face. "Harry," his brother requested, voice serious," how many fingers am I holding up?"

Well, let's see. There must have been three. Or maybe four. "Is t'is a trick qu-ques'ion?"

Nolan never did answer. Instead, he removed his fingers from his brother's face and asked, voice sharp, "Har, are you drunk?"

Harry could only stare at his brother, brain not working as fast as it normally did. "Uh…d'fine drunk." Harry replied, answer coming out slurred. The noise that came from his brother in response could only be described as a roar. His brother's body, which had been kneeling over him, was gone in a flash, and Harry turned his head just in time to see his brother's fist crash into Malfoy's face.

"He's fucking drunk, you bastard! Is that where you get your kicks? Well, here's some news for ya, you damned, rott-" Wham!

Malfoy nailed his brother in the face. Nolan stumbled backwards, clutching his chin. His eyes were blazing. Harry winced, both for the pain his brother must have been in, and for the fact that Malfoy was going to be attending his own funeral in the next couple days.

It was almost morbidly fascinating to watch as his brother pounced on the lanky boy in front of him. They both fell to the floor, Nolan on top of Malfoy. His brother managed to knock Malfoy in the chest a few times before Malfoy kneed Nolan's stomach, causing the wind to get knocked out of him. Using Nolan's distraction to his advantage, Malfoy's fist connected with Nolan's cheek.

Quite suddenly, Harry snapped out of the dream-like state he was in. Although he was still drunk as all get out, he was struck by the desire to do something about the brawl taking place in his room instead of just acting as a spectator. However, Harry found it wasn't quite as easy to get up from the floor as he would have liked. He slowly, and rather pathetically, got to his hands and knees. And considering the effort it had taken to get that far, had called it good enough. Then he started his slow crawl to the middle of the room where the fight was taking place. His requests to stop on the way had no effect on the violent brawlers. It wasn't until he reached his destination, about a foot from the two, that Malfoy had noticed him. "Your little, baby brother wants you, Pothead," he stated crudely.

Nolan growled in response and turned his head toward Harry, their fighting temporarily stopping, although they still had a hold of each other. "What, Harry?" His voice was impatient.

"I-I don' wan' you ta get hurt," he slurred, green eyes wide, pleading with his brother. Nolan's face softened a little. Malfoy, for a reason unbeknownst even to himself, suddenly snapped and socked Nolan so hard in the face that the other boy rolled off of him, a hand held to his mouth, where a lip began to bleed profusely. Malfoy took the opportunity to stand up.

"Maybe you should spend more time trying to protect yourself instead of your itsy brother, Potter. Besides, you fight like a mug-." His insult was interrupted by a rather loud retching noise.

Harry felt so nauseous that he couldn't help himself. He vomited. All over Malfoy's shoes. After that, he promptly passed out.

The next day, and a few days after that, Harry endured much embarrassment as many of his friends gave him congratulations. Some because he had finally gotten a taste of alcohol. But most because he had barfed all over a certain vicious blonde. This excluded Hermione, of course, who had given him a twenty minute lecture on why alcohol was bad for the body, especially a young body such as his own. In fact, a follow up to the mentioned lecture was taking place now. He was currently at the Granger residence, sitting across from Hermione on her bed.

"I'm well aware that peer pressure is a major reason why people do things like smoke and drink, but in the end, it's not really an excuse. I've been exposed to plenty of peer pressure myself, but I've never drank a drop of liquor in my life. I know it's a bit harder on you, considering you're very close to your brother who's…well, who's a little rambunctious, but…"

"'Mione," Harry interrupted, trying to get his best friend's attention.

"…it's still not an excuse. Or a reason. Anyways, I'm really just concerned for you because…"

"Hermione," Harry tried again, a bit louder this time.

"…I care for you, you know? You were my first friend at Hogwarts and I would never in a million years want to lose you. I mean, I'll always be your friend no matter what. I guess I'm just trying to say…"

"Hermione Granger!"

"What is it, Harry? Honestly, there's no need to get upset, I'm just trying to…"

"I kissed him." That got her to be quiet. For at least two seconds anyway.

"What? Kissed? Who? Your brother?" Her eyes were comically wide as she stared at me, completely confused.

"No!" Harry yelped. He took a deep breath before quietly elaborating. "Well, I guess technically he kissed me, but, well, it was…Malfoy."

Her eyes got even wider and her mouth dropped open into a 'o'. "You mean Malfoy, as in Draco Malfoy. The one who tries to make all Gryffindor's lives, your's and mine included, completely and utterly hellish? That Malfoy?"

"Er…yeah." What followed his reply was utter silence. "Uh…better than Malfoy, as in Lucius, right?" Harry joked, laughing nervously at his poor attempt at humor.

Hermione only continued to stare at him. Finally, she spoke. "I remember that you told me you had a bit of an accident on his shoes, but I didn't think that…wait. Were you, I mean, had you been drinking when the kiss happened?"

"Yeah," Harry answered honestly.

Suddenly Hermione's quizzical expression turned outraged. "You mean he took advantage of you?! Harry, I'm so sorry that you had to go through that! Oh my God, he didn't do anything else, did he? Har-"

"It wasn't like that though," Harry quickly intervened, embarrassed his friend thought he had been taken advantage of. "I mean, yeah, I was drunk, but so was he, you know? And…well, I kind of liked it…" Harry waited for her response. Finally, she replied.

"It doesn't matter if you liked it though, Harry. I mean, of course you liked it, it was a kiss. And besides, I'm certain Malfoy can hold his alcohol much better than you. He's bigger and more experienced when it comes to drinking. It was wrong what he did."

"But…I think I asked him to."

Hermione sighed. "That doesn't matter either, Harry. You didn't know what you were doi-" The she finally noticed the uncomfortable face on her friend's face. She sighed. "I'll drop it, okay Harry?"

Harry nodded, but started up himself afterward. "It's weird though."

"What's weird?"

"Well, my brother walked in as we were, you know, making out…" he braved a glance at Hermione's face before continuing, "but now he won't talk to me about it at all. All he's said to me is that he's proud of me for puking on Malfoy's shoes. Otherwise, he's been ignoring me and I feel really guilty, like I betrayed him or something."

His friend grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "He's probably just a little shocked, and extremely mad at Malfoy, not you. He knows you were drunk, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Then I wouldn't worry too much, Har-bear." she said, calling Harry her favorite nickname for him. "He loves you, and will eventually get over."

Harry smiled and gave his best friend a gigantic hug. "What would I do without you, 'Mione?"

She uncharacteristicly giggled before replying. "You'd probably be an emotional mess…and you wouldn't be getting the grades you do; that's for sure."

Harry had felt much better after his chat with Hermione, and had even decided that confronting his brother would be the best course of action. Besides, Harry couldn't stand not talking to his twin for one moment longer. When he got home he went straight to Nolan's room. Taking a calming breath, he knocked on his brother's closed bedroom door. A mumbled "come in" invited him inside and Harry opened the door. His brother was sprawled out on the bed, doing schoolwork. Uh-oh. Nolan had to be upset if he was resorting to homework. "Uh…Nolan?"

His brother looked up at his voice and Harry grimaced when he saw the light bruise on the right side of his brother's jaw. He had a hell of a time explaining that to mum and dad when they had gotten home. Harry believed his excuse had something to do with a deranged vacuum. "Can I talk to you?"

"I'm a little busy," was the reply, Nolan's tone completely wiped of emotion.

"It won't take long."

"Maybe later."

Harry felt his heart drop a bit, and looked down at the ground. "'Kay. Sorry for bothering you."

He was almost out the door before Nolan's voice stopped him. "Oh, come here, Har'." He sighed, defeated.

"I'm not going to talk to you if you're going to be like that about it," Harry responded, peeved at his brother's tone. Nolan clearly didn't want to talk to him.

"Don't be such a girl, Harry. I said I'd talk to you."

Irritated that his brother was being so rude, ruder than he normally was anyways, Harry refused. He was a bit startled and rather upset when Nolan took things into his own hands. Literally. He stood up, picked Harry up around the waist and deposited him on the bed. He plopped himself down right next to him.

"I don't exactly appreciate being rough-handled, you know."

Nolan replied, voice edgy. "You didn't seem to mind much when Malfoy was doing it."

Shocked that his twin had actually just said that to him, Harry could only stare, eyes betray the hurt his brother's words had caused. Not saying a word, Harry was on his feet and in seconds, marching towards the door. Clearly, talking was useless if that's what his brother thought. His attempted escape was stop by a hand on his shoulder. Harry spun around, eyes full of unshed tears and a nasty insult on the tip of his tongue. He soon became speechless, however, when he saw that Nolan's brown eyes had tears in them as well. "I'm fucking sorry, Har'. I swear to God I didn't mean that. It's just that every time I look at you, I see that creep Malfoy harassing you and it just pisses me off. I don't mean to take my anger out on you."

"Is that why you've been ignoring me?" was Harry's soft response. His brother nodded. Harry just enveloped him in a tight hug. Nolan returned it with equal strength.

"Just don't ignore me, okay? I thought you were really angry with me. Let's just make a deal to forget about Malfoy, alright?"

"Alright." Nolan agreed. Then suddenly, he put Harry in a one-armed headlock. Using his knuckles, he started messed up Harry's already messy black locks.

"Hey! That was unfair, and not to mention sneaky! You Slytherin!" Harry exclaimed, but couldn't be taken seriously, considering he was laughing. Both were unaware of their dad's sudden appearance in the door way.

"What is this? My boys couldn't possibly be wrestling without inviting their dear old dad to participate, now would they?"

It was Nolan who replied. "Exactly, you're our dear _old_ dad. We wouldn't want you to break a hip or anything. Just looking out for your best interests."

"Oy! You can't possibly expect me to sit here and take this, now do you?"

"Actually, you're standing, dad." Harry told him, cheekily.

"Hey! I was going to be on your side, Har', but now I-"

"…Still am, considering you couldn't possibly take both our sons on your own," Lily, who also appeared in the doorway, finished for him.

James pouted. Then smiled brightly. "That's what you think, dear." That was all the warning Harry and Nolan got before their father charged at them.

Lily was content to watch from the sidelines, laughing occasionally when her husband or one of her sons did something particularly amusing. Her smile wavered only a little when she noticed a particular spot on her youngest's forehead seemed a little red. Realizing it had been a little over a year since the last concealment charm she'd placed on his forehead, she knew she would probably have to perform the complex spell again tonight. After all, it wouldn't do for anyone besides herself to know. She'd be damned if she was going to put her baby in danger.


	3. Chapter 3

Making Sweet Lemonade

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe no matter how much I really, really want to. However, Nolan is all mine. So there. I also disclaim any poor grammar, spelling. It's not mine. I swear.

A/N: In which more characters are introduced and something resembling a plot is expanded on. Thank you to everyone who reads this story, and more importantly, to everyone who reviews. Each review is like a little gem I would stare at all day if only I had the time. Also please take into consideration that I wrote this at midnight when I'm typically brain dead. Please show some mercy.

"Oh, Mrs. Prongs! Where are your two little pronglets?!"

Harry could hear Sirius' purposefully irritating sing-song voice all the way from upstairs, and immediately grinned. Not bothering to finish the sentence he was on in his potions essay, the adolescent slammed down his quill, absentmindedly noting the splatter it caused, and took to the stairs. Nolan, he discovered, was racing down the stairs as well. "Sirius!" their excited voices exclaimed in unison.

The handsome man they were greeting chose to ignore the twins' mother who was busy lecturing him about calling her by her given name, and slung an arm around each of the boys' shoulders as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairwell. "My, my boys, you've sure grown."

Harry and Nolan both stared at Sirius, nonplussed. "Sirius," Nolan finally began, "you saw us a few days ago. I don't really think we grew all that much in the span of, say, seventy-two or so hours."

"Yes, well," explained Sirius, mock-insulted, "It's the priority of the thing."

"That makes no sense," Harry pointed out.

"I'm going to have to agree with my little brother on this one, Paddy. Besides, try to look at it from Har's point of view. He hasn't grown in years."

"Hey!"

"Now, now," Sirius interrupted, looking amused, "let's not argue. After all you want to convince your beautiful, intelligent, and…err, compassionate mother that you'll be well-behaved when I steal you off to Diagon Alley, right?" Sirius shot a pleading look at Lily. Then exchanged a mischievous smile with the eldest twin. "After all, Nolan, you know Harry's height, or lack thereof, is a touchy subject for him."

"Oh, ha ha. That was just hilarious." Harry replied sarcastically as Nolan and Sirius started whooping and hollering.

"What dumb wisecrack did that old dog make now?"

The obviously tired, yet still cheerful voice coming from behind him instantly caught Harry's attention. How could he not have noticed his godfather? Harry swung his body around and pounced on the source of the sound. "Remy!"

The amber-eyed man chuckled as he was practically tackled by the small teenager. "It's good to see you too, cub," Remus stated warmly before eyeing down the other boy he considered to practically be his own son. "Now if only your brother still believed in hugs…"

"He thinks they're unmanly," Harry stated, grinning as his brother's face turned a light shade of red and he started sputtering.

"Well, I'm really glad to see you Remus…it's just that…well, you know I'm not exactly a kid…and, um…"

"Is a handshake manly enough for you?" Remus asked, finally taking pity on the babbling boy. Nolan's face flushed a little more, but he quickly grabbed the hand offered to him. Nolan's grip was firmer than it needed to be, but Remus could only grin at the brunette's so-called display of manliness.

"Hmph."

Four pairs of eyes snapped to the location of the sound and locked eyes with a certain redheaded mother they had all nearly forgotten was there. She had _that_ look in her eyes and was impatiently tapping her right foot on the floor. "If you four are quite done with your greetings, I would like to know why I wasn't informed of this supposed trip to Diagon Alley."

Sirius and Remus exchanged looks before Sirius spoke up. "Well, you see Lils, it was all sort of spontaneous…James just happened to mention something about the pronglets being cooped up in the house all day with nothing to do, and also just happened to mention the fact that they hadn't picked up their schools things yet so…Remus and I decided, with no hinting whatsoever from James, that perhaps we should take the twins off your hands for the day." Sirius ended his rather rushed explanation with what he thought was a charming grin.

"So my husband put you up to this, hm?" Sirius's grin fell a little.

"Er…no."

"You're a horrible liar, Sirius."

Sirius half-grin finally turned into a pout. "Please Lily, come on, let them out for just a little while."

"Yeah, mum," Nolan agreed, "you've been acting like a mad-woman today. You're actually making us do…homework." He added a shutter for the effect.

Sirius gasped, faking a horrified expression. Remus rolled his eyes at their behavior.

"I told James very specifically this morning that Nolan and Harry needed to finish their schoolwork they haven't completed yet today. School starts in less than a week."

"Please, mum," Harry begged, "I promise I'll get my homework done by when school starts."

"Yeah, I promise too. So please?" Nolan chimed in.

Lily sighed, knowing she didn't really want to say no to her boys. Finally, she gave up her tough love act and said semi-seriously to Remus. "You're the voice of reason here. Make sure they don't do anything to end up in Azkaban."

Although she had acted peeved about the spontaneous trip, Lily was secretly relieved. It seemed like the little bug she had planted in James' ear about making the boys stay in all day and work on school projects had done its job. She was glad she was able to read her husband so well. She was hoping he would take matters into his own hands and plan a rescue mission to get his sons out of doing what James undoubtedly thought was a ghastly potions essay.

Lily waited patiently for the party of four to leave, pretending to busy herself with housework until she was sure they were gone. Once she was certain they wouldn't be coming back until evening, Lily made a very important fire-call. Once she was sure the man would be coming, the anxious redhead started some tea for hospitality sake. When she heard someone come through the fireplace, she left the kitchen and welcomed the man in the living room. "Severus, I'm so glad you could come."

The potion master in question looked a little less 'glad.' Instead, he looked like his usual snarky self. When she looked closely though, Lily could see a sliver of curiosity in his eyes. She just hoped he kept his questions to himself. "Yes, I don't often venture into Potter's home," he agreed amiably enough. "I brought what you requested."

Lily was appreciative of the potion master's straightforwardness. She graciously took the vial he offered her. "Thank you, Severus. You don't know how much I appreciate this. Why don't you stay a while; I made tea."

The potion professor nodded and took a seat on one of the couches as Lily went to the kitchen to put down the potion and bring them both some tea. He waited patiently for her to return, although inwardly was debating on how to ask his next question. "Here you are," Lily stated, handing Severus a cup before sitting down next to him with her own cup in her hands.

"Lily," he finally started, voice not sarcastic for once, "I couldn't help but notice throughout the years that you always ask for the same potion every year around the same time. Its name is the Permanent Concealment Potion. I wonder the same thing every time you ask for it…if the concealment caused by the potion is supposed to be permanent as its name suggests, then why do you annually need it?"

Lily didn't answer for a while; she didn't look at him and seemed to be staring at her hands. Severus knew she was in deep thought.

FLASHBACK

"_Please, baby, please just sleep." Lily pleaded with the babe in her arms. She was so tired. "Just close your eyes and rest, little one." Lily sighed in relief when the black-haired baby in her arms suddenly quieted. Lily looked down, praying to Merlin that maybe he had exhausted himself so much that he had fallen asleep mid-cry. Instead of closed eyes though, she found herself staring into tear-filled, green ones. Then the screaming started up again. Lily groaned, completely exhausted, but hugged the baby closer to her chest and started whispering sweet nothings again. "It's okay, sweetums, mommy's here."_

_Lily's drooping eyes suddenly shot open when a noise far more terrifying than her youngest' cry filled the air. The alarm was going off. Lily was suddenly wide awake and she could hear her own heart pounding in her chest. Trying not to show her fears and panic the child she was holding even more, she quickly sat up from the rocking chair and ran, holding Harry securely to her chest, to one of the cribs set up in the room. Holding Harry with one arm, she picked up a sleeping Nolan with the other. Her blood froze when she heard someone start up the stairs. Keeping in the cry she desperately wanted to let out, Lily somehow managed to hold onto both of her own sons, and also pick up the other baby she was in charge of babysitting that night: Neville Longbottom. _

_Acting faster than she ever had in her life, Lily deposited all three children in the closet, threw the invisibility cloak Nolan had been cuddling with over all three boys, placed a silencing charm around the closet, and then slammed the door shut, locking all four of them inside. _

_Wand at the ready, Lily listened at the closet door as the nursery one was blasted open. Then nothing. There was only an eerie silence. Until the door to the closet was thrown open with such force that cracks were left on the wall where the door hit it. The redhead wasn't able to get off a single spell before the wand was ripped from her hand and she was roughly pulled from the closet by her arms. Her emerald eyes only saw a glimpse of red before she was forcefully thrown to the ground. She wasn't down long before a different pair of hands pulled her up and then bulky arms wrapped around her stomach and arms, holding her in place. So Voldemort hadn't come alone. _

_No sooner then she thought his name in her head, he turned around and Lily was able to see the man in all his dark glory. He was tall with crimson colored pupils, and dark hair covered his head, falling down to his shoulders. If she didn't know better, Lily would have thought him to be in his thirties. When he spoke, his voice was harsh and threatening. "Where are the brats, mudblood?" _

_Although still scared, Lily's fears rapidly began to be replaced by a fierce protectiveness only a parent could truly understand. "I'd never give up my children, you damned bastard." Her voice was shaky, but the tone was unmistakable._

"_Foolish, girl, very foolish, but I'll give you one more chance. Tell me where they are and I'll spare your life."_

"_Go to hell."_

_Voldemort's red eyes darkened. "Kill her, Wormtail."_

_Lily's mouth dropped open when her friend's name came from the dark lord's mouth. Wormtail? No, that couldn't be. Peter Pettigrew was one of her good friends. Voice soft, Lily questioned, "Peter?"_

"_I-I'm so-sorry, Lily, I re-really am. It's ju-just that's h-he's _so powerful_. And I d-don't want t-to die in this war."_

_Lily let out a betrayed cry, "How could you, Peter? How could you do this and sentence your friends to death? Nolan and Harry…" Tears began to roll down her face. "My babies."_

_Voldemort watched the scene with disgust. "I said kill the mudblood bitch, Wormtail."_

_Lily stayed quietly determined as she felt one of the arms around her loosen and then a wand being jammed into the right side of her head. However, when she heard a small voice, she lost all composure. "Mama."_

_She felt her heart sink to the bottom of her chest. One of her sons, Harry, had crawled out of the closet and his green eyes, still puffy from crying, were taking in the scene. She saw Voldemort take a step toward him from the corner of her eye. "No! Stay away from him! He's just a little baby, please!"_

_Lily screamed, and kicked, and did everything she could possibly do to get out of the strong grip that held her still. "Please; just kill me. Don't hurt him! Take me instead!"_

"_Shut up that fool girl."_

_Lily continued her fighting and pleads, even with a hand covering her mouth. Voldemort ignored her completely, and instead focused on the small child that had crawled out of the closet. "So, you volunteered to be first, hm?" He asked smoothly, mocking the confused child. The baby only stared at him, and the dark lord chuckled eerily. "Say good-bye to your filthy mother, child. But don't worry too much, you'll see her again soon."_

_Wasting no more time, seeing as he had two children he still intended to kill, he pointed his wand straight at Harry. His red eyes glowed as he pronounced the words, "Avada Kedavra."_

_Lily screamed through Peter's hand as a bright green light headed straight for her child. She could feel her heart break went it hit. _

_But then. Something miraculous happened. The light bounced off her son. And it went straight back toward its caster. When it hit Voldemort, Lily was blinded by a bright beam. She felt Peter let go of her in his shock. When the light dimmed, Lily rushed towards her baby. "Harry!"_

_Her baby was sitting just as he had been before the death curse had been cast on him. It was as if nothing had happened at all. And then she saw the blood running down his cheek. Upon investigation, she noticed it was from a cut on his head. Exactly where the dark lord's spell had hit him. Lily wasted no time picking him up. She looked around quickly to make sure Peter was gone. To her relief he looked to have fled like the coward he was. She went to her other son and Neville in the closet and was amazed to see the Longbottom's boy still sleeping. Harry suddenly whimpered and clung hard to his mother's neck. "Oh, Harry," she whispered, voice cracking. That was when the idea came to her. She stared at Neville's untouched forehead and made up her mind. She knew what she was going to do would be considered horribly wrong, but she couldn't put the wizarding world before her sons. She wasn't going to let anyone touch either of her babies ever again. _

END FLASHBACK

Finally, Lily met Severus' eyes. "Some things can't really be explained, Severus."

The potion master's black eyes studied her for a long time before he finally nodded. "I suppose you're right." Although, as a Slytherin, Severus didn't have the same insatiable curiosity Gryffindors possessed, he didn't think he could let this go this time. He would find out one way or another. He'd be damned though if he'd admit it was because he cared about Lily and her family.

"So," Lily began, obviously attempting to change the subject, "any changed opinions about my sons and their potion brewing abilities."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Same diagnosis as every other time you ask. Harry isn't reaching his full potential."

Lily rolled her eyes, although she was grinning, "And Nolan?"

"I didn't mention him for a reason."

"Severus!"

Harry was having a great time at Diagon Alley, as per usual. He and Nolan took care of the bank visit and the book buying right away so they could have the rest of the time having fun. For Nolan and Sirius, that meant going to Gambol and Japes, a shop tailor made for pranksters, and for Harry that meant going to the quidditch shop. At first, Remus had insisted on going with him, something about his mother castrating him if he let Harry out of his sight, but Harry convinced him it was okay to go back to the bookshop. Harry knew that Flourish and Blotts was where Remus really wanted to be.

So after finally losing his godfather, Harry was able to walk into and admire his favorite shop in the whole of Diagon Alley: Quality Quidditch Supplies. That was when Harry heard the voice he really, really didn't want to hear. It belonged to none other than Cedric Diggory. Harry spotted him in the back of the shop; he was talking to Cho Chang, another Hogwart's student. If Harry remembered correctly, she was Ravenclaw's back up seeker, possibly starting this up coming year. She had a crush on Cedric ever since she had first seen him and Harry suspected she secretly hated him.

Not wanted to be seen by either of them, Harry put his head down and inconspicuously headed toward the snitch section of the shop. He was stopped by Cedric's shocked voice. Harry blushed when Cedric practically shouted across the shop. "Harry, is that you?! Sorry Cho, I have to go; I'm sure we'll see each other around. Wait up, Har'!"

The black-haired boy groaned, but waited for the Hogwarts graduate to come over to him. "Hey, Cedric." He greeted his ex-boyfriend weakly.

"Hey," Cedric replied back through a smile. "I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Oh?" Harry asked, acting surprised. He had gotten several fire-calls from him throughout the summer, but had refused to take any much to his parent's contentment.

"Yeah. Listen, I know you're probably still mad at me for…you know, but I've spend a lot of time this summer thinking about you. And, honestly, when I wasn't thinking about you, I was missing you. Really badly." Cedric waited for some sort of reaction, and when he got none, continued. "I guess I'm trying to say…well, I really want you back, Harry. I…I really want you to forgive me. I've been trying to tell you all summer, but I could never get a hold of you…"

"Why would I take you back, Cedric?" Harry asked, finally speaking up.

"I know we didn't exactly leave on very good terms. And you have to know how incredibly sorry I am for that, babe. I just really want you to…I just think going together again is a really good idea, Harry. Please, just listen." Cedric's hand tried to capture Harry's, but the much smaller teen snatched it away.

"Don't Cedric. I…I just can't, okay?" Harry felt horrible, but knew he couldn't handle being in a relationship with Cedric again. "I'm sorry."

"Just listen." Cedric demanded, voice taking on an almost angry edge. He reached out and grabbed Harry by the forearms and pulled him closer. "You have to listen to me."

"Let go!" Harry demanded, upset that Cedric was trying to take control of things by becoming physical.

"Harry, stop being so stubbo-"

"He said let go." Harry immediately recognized the dangerously soft voice. He jerked his head to the right to see the other person he really didn't want to see today. It was Draco Malfoy.

"What's it to you, Malfoy? Get bent."

Malfoy snorted at Cedric's angry tone. "Wow," he deadpanned, "I'm amazed by your intelligent word choice. Now, like I said, get the _fuck_ off him."

"Like I said," Cedric replied mockingly, "What's it to you?"

"Nothing," Malfoy bit out. Harry tried to squash the irrational hurt he felt at the harsh response. "It's just that the only thing more pathetic than a Gryffindor is a Hufflepuff. After all, everyone knows that's where you end up if you're not good enough for the other houses."

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Cedric huffed, hands still clenching Harry's shoulders.

"It means," Malfoy explained, smirking, "that even baby Potter is too good for the likes of you, dimwit. Now _stop_ fucking touching him."

Cedric smiled at the blonde condescendingly. "I'll have you know Harry and I are perfect for each other. Now why don't you go find your dear, old daddy?" Then his voice took on a more intimidating tone. "You may think you're better than me just because you're a Malfoy, but don't forget that I've already graduated and I know more complicated spells than you."

Any reply Malfoy may have had was cut off by the sales clerk of the store approaching them. "Is there a problem here?" he questioned, eyebrow raised. That was when Harry realized they had a few curious pairs of eyes on them, and a pair of clearly jealous ones belonging to Cho. Cedric finally let go of Harry.

"No, sir," he grunted. Noticing that the clerk wasn't leaving, but still standing there watching, Cedric finally turned to Harry. "I see you soon, Harry baby, okay? Remember that I love you." Without another word, Cedric marched out the door. Malfoy rolled his eyes before leaving quickly after. Harry's face reddened when Malfoy's body brushed passed his own on his way out.

Harry smiled shyly up at the clerk. "Thanks for that." He just got a lop-sided grin as a response before the clerk left him alone. Not particularly wanting to stick around and get stared at, and feeling the odd urge to go thank a certain blonde, Harry left the shop as well. Luckily, the blonde in question hadn't gone far.

Harry jogged to catch up to him before hesitantly tapping on his shoulder. Malfoy turned around, looking a bit astonished to see Harry there. "What do you want?"

Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Oh well, it's now or never. "Well, to thank you, I suppose. So, uh, thanks."

"I didn't do it for you," Malfoy stated blunted.

Harry almost felt like he had been struck. "Oh. Well, I mean, why then?"

"Entertainment." Another emotionless, blunt answer.

Harry looked down, feeling foolish to have even thanked the blonde. "'Kay." Awkward silence followed. "Well, bye." When he didn't get a response, Harry just walked away, face flushed.

As Malfoy watched him go, Harry never saw that flash of something in his eyes and he never heard his whisper either. "Bye Harry."

After his embarrassing encounter with Malfoy, Harry decided to go find Sirius and Nolan in Gambol and Japes. The rest of his afternoon went by smoothly; he even saw the Weasleys and talked to Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George for a while at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Not counting the spectacle in the quidditch shop, Harry considered it to be a very successful day. Still, the activities were very tiring and he was so exhausted when he got home that he didn't even notice the pumpkin juice his mom made that night for dinner tasted a little tangier than usual.


	4. Chapter 4

Making Sweet Lemonade

Summary: In which James and Lily are alive, Neville is thought to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has an older twin brother named Nolan, and Draco wants to shag Harry senseless. Let the drama commence. Oh. Of course, Severus will be in it too. Because I love me some Severus.

Warnings: AU: Obviously. OC: Nolan. But he's cool. I promise. OOC: Because I can. SLASH: Mmm. Yummy. VIOLENCE: Although no paddles are involved. I think. SEXUALITY: Also, possibly non-con. Because I'm a pervert that way. ALCOHOL USE: Designated drivers are the shit. LANGUAGE: Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuck. GENERAL WEIRDNESS: Because we all are. Generally weird, that is.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe no matter how much I really, really want to. However, Nolan is all mine. So there. I also disclaim any poor grammar, and spelling. It's not mine. I swear.

A/N: So this is what, like, a year late or so? That's not _that _bad, right? Will an apology cover it? Will a cookie? No? How about a year supply of cookies? Oh, screw it. I don't really have an excuse as to why I quit working on this; I just stopped. For whatever reason, my brain randomly started thinking about this story and my fingers got to work. I apologize if this seems disjointed compared to previous chapters. I haven't updated this in a year and it was difficult for me to feel out my characters again. As a fair warning, I'd like to mention that there's a possibility of me never updating this again; there's also a possibility of me updating this within days. I suppose it all just depends on my motivation and inspiration; I'm weird that way and apologize for any inconvenience. Finally, I'd like to thank every single person who as taken the time to read and review this story. Despite my lack of updates, I really do appreciate it. Now, enough with my rambling and onto the chapter! Woot woot!

The girl was awkward looking with gangly limbs. Her short, dirty blonde hair was tied back into two sloppy looking pigtails. The large, square glasses did nothing to disguise her darty, and clearly frightened eyes. It was quite obvious to Harry, and to everyone else in the Great Hall for that matter, that she was a first year. Of course, the fact that she was herded in with the rest of the nervous first years about to be sorted was a pretty large hint as well.

As soon as the sorting hat finished it's yearly song, Professor McGonagall began calling names. Seamus, a loud, Irish-looking fifth year, seated with a group made up of Harry, Nolan, Ron, Neville, and Hermione, began taking bets. He pointed at the oblivious, gangly girl. "Whacha think, boys? Hufflepuff, for sure."

Nolan squinted at the first year before adding in his two cents. "Nah, Ravenclaw material if you ask me. Look at those glasses."

"Hey!" Harry interrupted, looking indignant. "I wear glasses," he declared before jutting out his lower lip in a pout, "and I'm not in Ravenclaw."

Nolan shrugged in response. "That's true, but she looks like a bookworm in her specks. You, on the other hand, are as cute as a button," Nolan announced mischievously before flicking Harry's nose from across the table.

Neville, who had rudely squeezed himself into the spot to the right of Harry when the group had entered the Great Hall, threw an arm across Harry's shoulders and squashed the short teen in a half hug. "Yeah Harry, don't worry, your glasses certainly don't take away from your, you know, uh...your attractiveness," he finished lamely.

"You hitting on my little brother?" Nolan questioned the boy-who-lived, only half serious about his threatening tone of voice.

Harry discreetly tried to shrug himself out from under Neville's heavy arm, while also glaring daggers at Nolan. Why did his brother have to bring up his looks in front of Neville in the first place? Annoyed, more so at Neville than at Nolan, Harry answered his brother for the boy beside him. "He was just being nice, you git. Merlin, you get off on playing the big brother role, don't you? I'm not a toddler. We're actually twins, you know!"

Nolan, unaffected, rolled his eyes. "That's a minor detail, Har. You seem to forget that not only am I almost a whole hour older than you, I'm also a half a foot taller," Nolan's grin widened as he explained these facts to his brother. "Oh," he added, "and I was just kidding Longbottom. You know I just like to embarrasses Harry. He's just too entertaining when he's mad."

Nolan further annoyed his brother by reaching across the table and ruffling Harry's mop of dark hair. Harry was actually secretly grateful for this action when it caused Neville's arm to drop from his shoulder. When Neville's crush on him had been brought to his attention this last summer, he had started to notice how touchy the boy-who-lived actually was. It was definitely bothersome, but Harry didn't know how to deal with the situation. It didn't help that his dumb as dirt brother didn't realize that Neville actually was crushing on him.

Harry was almost too absorbed in his own distressful thoughts to hear good old Hermione spring to his defense against Nolan. "You may be right about Harry's age and height," she chimed, "but he's light years ahead of you when it comes to maturity. I don't see Harry placing bets on what house a poor, nervous first year is going to be sorted into."

Harry, happy to be distracted, couldn't help but smirk at his brother before blowing a raspberry. "Yeah, so there."

Hermione rewarded his behavior with a light slap upside the head. "Ow!"

"Way to just discredit what I just said about your maturity," Hermione responded.

"Hey now," Seamus interjected, mock insulted, "there's nothing immature about making bets on first years. Everyone knows that the Sorting Ceremony is boring for everyone besides those being sorted. This just spices things up."

Harry almost groaned out loud when he saw a self-righteous look darken Hermione's face. Great. "Oh yes," sarcasm rolled off of Hermione's tongue, "it's so spicey stereotyping people and judging them by the way they look." She then began imitating the boys' voices. Well, she was attempting to anyhow. "That girl wears glasses so she must be a smart Ravenclaw. That girl looks sneaky and is dressed in green. Slytherin, it is. Oh, look at that one shaking in his boots; he's a Hufflepuff, for sure. See that handsome fellow there. He must be a Gryffindor!" Hermione finished her small rant in a bit of a yell,earning the group of fifth year Gryffindors a few strange looks.

Nolan was the first to crack and start laughing. Seamus, Ron, and Neville soon followed. Even Harry tried to cover up his own giggles by coughing. "You know Hermione," Nolan began good-naturedly, "for someone who tries so hard to be serious, you sure can be a riot sometimes."

Hermione huffed before elbowing Ron, who was sitting to the right of her, hard in the ribs. Ron wheezed mid-laugh. "Perhaps you don't remember, Ronald, but I'm reminded of a certain redhead who was scared to death of his own sorting because the poor misguided soul thought he'd have to fight a troll."

Harry watched as Ron's cheeks reddened and snickered along with his brother, Seamus, and Neville. Suddenly, though, his eyes caught the gangly girl Seamus and his brother had been observing earlier. She was walking toward the hat.

"Shhh," Harry shushed them, gestured a hand toward the sorting hat, "that girl you guys were talking about is about to be sorted."

The green-eyed boy was slightly surprised when the group, even Hermione, quieted down to watch as the large hat covered a head of blonde pigtails. About ten seconds passed before the hat made it's announcement. "SLYTHERIN!"

Nolan and Seamus both slumped at the news. Hermione smiled triumphantly. "Look at that. You were both wrong. Serves you right."

Harry, with a small grin on his face, slowly shook his head at Hermione's antics. Then he stared, with what he hoped to be a serious expression, at his group of friends. "Maybe appearances aren't always what they seem," Harry half-whispered, trying to make his voice sound mysterious.

Nolan rolled his eyes. "Way to be deep there, Har."

Choosing to ignore the sarcasm, Harry beamed at his brother. "Yeah, I try."

"Quiet now boys," Hermione whispered bossily, "Headmaster Dumbledore is about to make his speech."

Both brothers, as well as Neville, Ron, and Seamus, turned their attention to the head table in the Great Hall not only to appease Hermione,but also because they all had respectt for their elderly, slightly cooky, headmaster.

It was at this time that Harry first noticed that there was a new face within the row of staff members all sitting behind the pedestal that Professor Dumbledore was currently speaking on. The dark-haired man, the small teen knew, had to have been the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It was a well circulated rumor that Harry's ex-teacher, Professor Quirrel, had formed some insane plot to bring back the dark lord. Harry was privy to some details only because his dad was an auror. Apparently, Quirrel had attempted to steal some stone from Griggotts Bank. He'd been caught and swiftly sent off to Azkaban prison. Harry was a nice and rather sheltered teen and didn't wish the pain and loneliness of imprisonment on anyone. However, he would admit that he looked forward to his favorite subject without having to put up with the stuttering Quirrel. The man had also come off as a bit brainless.

It looked as if this new professor, however, was in full possession of every bit of his brain. Even from quite a few yards of distance, Harry could see that the man was powerful; if not in magic, then in stature. The green-eyed boy couldn't say exactly how tall he was because he was sitting, but if his broad shoulders were anything to go by then he was at least of average height. Not only was his hair a dark brown, but his skin was deeply tanned and his eyes were dark. Intimidating, Harry supposed, was the right word to describe the man. Because he was so intent on his observations, Harry nearly jumped out of skin when the man's gaze seemed to catch his own. Startled, Harry looked away and turned his head so that he could watch the headmaster. Soon, however, Harry realized how silly it was for him to look away. There was no way that the dark man was looking at him out of all the students here. That was just perposterous. So, feeling like he somehow had to proof how sensible he was, Harry turned his attention back to the stranger amongst the staff. It was very odd, the little teen decided, that he could tell how dark the man's eyes were from so far away.

Harry let out a little gasp and quickly tore his gaze away to look at his lap after the oddest thing happened. The man had winked at him! Harry could swear to Merlin that he had. Why, though? Was he communicating to Harry that he had been caught staring? Was he trying to get in good with his students? Maybe he hadn't winked at all? Surely not. He was going bonkers. Attempting to literally knock some sense into himself, Harry closed his eyes and smacked himselfi n the forehead. Whe he opened his emerald eyes, he realized that Nolan was staring at him from across the table, probably thinking his brother had gone mad and hoping it wasn't genetic.

"Did you just hit yourself? On the head? Randomly and for no apparent reason?"

"Yes," Harry answered proudly, realized he was probably coming off as unhinged.

"Why?"

"Shhh," Hermione whispered angrilly. Harry shrugged to his brother so that he could both avoid the wrath of Hermione and pay attention to Dumbledore, who had started introducing the staff for the benefit of the first years. When the headmaster introduced Lily, the twins' mother, as the Charms professor, the group of Gryffindors cheered and Harry made sure to wave to his mum.

"Mamma's boy," Nolan whispered tauntingly across the table. Harry rolled his eyes and proceeded to kick his twin's ankle under the table. He ignored Nolan's yelp and turned his attention back to Headmaster Dumbledore. The professor was pointing to the dark eyed man, who was beginning to stand from the staff table.

"Finally," Professor Dumbledore was speaking, "I'd like to introduce everyone to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Everyone give a warm welcome to Professor Fitzpatrick."

For whatever reason, Harry couldn't bring himself to clap. When the moderate applause died down, Harry turned to look at his brother. "You know what, Nolan? I have a weird feeling about this year."

Nolan rolled his eyes, but remained grinning at his black-hair brother. "Relax, Har. It'll be a fun fifth year. And don't worry, if any trolls get loose, I'll protect you."

Harry knew Nolan was being pathetically serious. Still, he couldn't help but feel that they had more to worry about than trolls.

Fortunately, Harry's worried thoughts about monsters worse than trolls were put to rest after a long night of gossiping and reviewing summer adventures with his dorm mates. Harry's magnificent act of vomiting on Draco Malfoy's shoes was brought up more than once and loathe as he was to admit it, Harry fell asleep thinking of the stupid blonde. In the morning, Harry felt refreshed and ready to take on his first day back at Hogwarts and the first day of his fifth year.


	5. Chapter 5

Making Sweet Lemonade

Summary: In which James and Lily are alive, Neville is thought to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has an older twin brother named Nolan, and Draco wants to shag Harry senseless. Let the drama commence. Oh. Of course, Severus will be in it too. Because I love me some Severus.

Warnings: AU: Obviously. OC: Nolan. But he's cool. I promise. OOC: Because I can. SLASH: Mmm. Yummy. VIOLENCE: Although no paddles are involved. I think. SEXUALITY: Also, possibly non-con. Because I'm a pervert that way. ALCOHOL USE: Designated drivers are the shit. LANGUAGE: Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuck. GENERAL WEIRDNESS: Because we all are. Generally weird, that is.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe no matter how much I really, really want to. However, Nolan is all mine. So there. I also disclaim any poor grammar, spelling. It's not mine. I swear.

A/N: I've decided that I really want to continue with this story. This decision had a lot to do with the amazing people who decided to take the time and review this story. I can't promise I'll always update in a timely manner, but I will try. Now, read on my lovely readers and reviewers. I love you all. Oh yes, and please no one kill me for what happens to Harry in this chapter.

Harry was anxious. He kept telling himself how ridiculous his nervousness was, but no amount of his mental reassurances stopped the swarm of butterflies from beating their wings on the insides of his stomach. It was simply stupid of him to be so nervous for the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of his fifth year. He had always done better in this class than any of his others, and even in those, he had always done quite well. He usually placed in the top ten percent in all of his classes. And as far as Defense went, he always placed first, beating out Hermione for the top slot every year.

The rest of his day had gone well and Harry was happy that even after a relaxing summer his form with his wand was right on. In fact, besides Pansy Parkinson glaring at him all through Charms class, which was a little extreme, even for her, Harry would say that his first day back at Hogwarts was going darn near perfect. He had even gotten Professor Snape to deem his potion "passable" during his earlier Potions class. He considered that to be a high compliment from the dark, foreboding man.

Still, Harry couldn't seem to get his muscles to relax as he sat waiting for Professor Fitzpatrick to enter the classroom. In fact, he was so on edge that he nearly jumped a mile high when Hermione, whom he sat next to in all his classes, jammed him in the stomach with her elbow. "What's wrong, Har? You're as stiff as a rock and look like you're about to have to march to your death or something." Not known for beating around the bush, that one.

Hermione's voice came out in a whisper despite the fact that their last class of the day hadn't yet started. "I don't know," Harry whispered back. "I suppose I'm just kind of nervous. It's going to be odd having a different professor, you know?"

Hermione rolled her large, brown eyes. "Oh stop, Harry. You're amazing at Defense. I'm sure Professor Fitzpatrick will be enamored with your skills, just as Professor Quirrell was. Besides, you've been complaining that the latter was a brainless money since you were eleven."

"I don't think I was that hard on him, Mione. Sheesh." Still, Harry grinned, Hermione's compliment making him feel a little better.

"I think I used one of your more respectful names for him actually," Hermione pointed out. Harry opened his mouth to retort when his chair was abruptly kicked from behind. He whipped his head around to glare down his brother, who had begun to whistle innocently. Ron, to Nolan's left, was trying to hide laughter behind his large, freckled hand.

"Cut the innocent act," Hermione demanded, her own chair having been kicked by Ron.

"Well, you shouldn't have been telling secrets," Ron pointed out, suddenly pouting. "You two are always whispering back and forth, like, like…like you're a part of some secret-telling spy organization." There was a pause. "Or something like that. "

"Oh, don't worry about it Ron," Nolan reassured his friend mischievously. "Even if Hermione and my _little_ brother Harry are a part of some weird secret club, clearly there is a height requirement. You must be under five foot and a half to be a member of the club. Obviously, we do not meet that _little_ qualification."

Harry was tempted to smack his brother upside the head, but was stopped from doing so when a crumpled up piece of parchment suddenly hit him upside his own head. Scowling, he picked up the yellowed paper that had rolled onto the table after rudely hitting his person. Straightening it out, he saw that it had some words written on it. _Nervous, baby?_

The perfect cursive scrawl could only belong to one person. Draco Malfoy. Turning to glare at the blonde seated on the Slytherin side of the classroom, his brilliant green eyes met cold, although obviously amused, grey ones. The blonde had an eyebrow quirked and looked like he was holding in laughter. Probably evil laughter, Harry mused. Harry turned his gaze to Hermione when she swiftly pulled the wrinkled parchment out of his hands.

"Nervous, baby?" She questioned, reading the note aloud. "Looks like Malfoy wrote it," she added after quickly analyzing the handwriting. Her forehead creased in concern. She quickly looked at Ron and Nolan and noted that they seemed to have preoccupied themselves, talking about quidditch and the last World Cup. Turning to Harry, she immediately questioned her friend. "Why did he call you _baby_?"

"Come on, Mione. Baby Potter. Shrimp. Runt. Baby. Basically, he's making fun of me. Honestly, it's hardly my fault I'm short." Harry pouted, clearly not thinking anything of it.

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione interjected hesitantly. "I mean, isn't _baby_ a term of endearment for some people."

The black-haired teen stared at his friend, nonplussed. "You're off your rocker, Hermione. This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about."

Hermione would swear that Harry could be so dense at times. "The same Draco Malfoy that kissed you this summer."

"HERMIONE!" Harry yelped and actually jumped off his seat, both surprised and annoyed when Hermione brought up a subject he didn't want to think or talk about ever again.

"It's Professor Fitzpatrick, actually," a bemused voice reached Harry's ears. Cheeks turning pink, Harry turned to see the new Defense professor standing in the doorway. Quickly realizing he was being stared at by not only Professor Fitzpatrick, but also by the majority of his peers, Harry immediately parked his bum into his seat.

The new Defense teacher, Harry decided, was even more intimidating up close than far away. The man was well above six foot and his body, if his bare arms were anything to go by, was made of pure muscle. His mouth was upturned, seemingly amused by Harry's outburst, but something about his dark eyes made the small teen irrationally suspicious about the man's true nature.

The room was silent as the professor strolled to the front of the class. Upon reaching his desk, the buff man picked up a piece of parchment. He then unceremoniously sat on the wooden desk, paying no mind to the litter of paper on top of it. "Alright then; as I just mentioned, my name is obviously Fitzpatrick. Reid, not Hermione, is my first name if anyone was curious." At this, he shot a look at Harry and grinned a little. Harry couldn't help but think that he looked like an animalistic predator with that toothy smile. The back corner of the room, where the majority of the Slytherin girls sat, erupted into giggles at the professor's teasing.

Harry, however, slumped into his seat, not used to embarrassing himself in class. The dark professor waited for the laughter to diminish before he began to speak again. "I like to have a laid back atmosphere in the classroom. I find that many students are more comfortable practicing spells and dueling if they are practicing and dueling with people they trust. Seeing as this a Gryffindor-Slytherin class, and having been a Hogwarts student myself, I realize that it may be difficult for some of you to relax around each other, but I want everyone to, at the very least, act civilly towards each other. I will not tolerate any unnecessary violence or teasing. While I do enjoy having a laid back classroom, everyone needs to be aware of how serious this class is. If I feel that you are not taking this class seriously or if you present a risk to your peers, I will not hesitate to remove you from this class. Am I being clear?"

Fitzpatrick spoke smoothly and confidently. Silence met the man as everyone took in his words. Harry didn't doubt that both Ron and Nolan were concerned. While Harry excelled at Defense, both Ron and Nolan viewed it as a 'slacker' class, what with Professor Quirrell teaching and all. Hermione didn't seem fazed. In fact, she had started writing notes the moment the man began to talk.

The lumbering man at the head of the classroom smiled charmingly after receiving no other reply but silence. "Come on now, I'm not that scary, am I?"

Girlish giggles seemed to once again encompass the classroom. Lavender Brown, a Gryffindor girl seated a few tables behind Harry, spoke up in a dreamy voice. "A little bit. But in a good way."

She seemed to realize what she had implied a moment later because her hazel eyes widened. "Well, what I meant was that you're really strong and, uh, manly," she tried to explain herself, flustered.

Fitzpatrick's white teeth gleamed as he chuckled at her response. "Why thank you, Miss…" he trailed off, waiting for her name.

"It's Lavender," she supplied for him, voice falsely sweet.

The man searched the parchment he had clutched in his hand. "Ah, yes, Miss Brown."

Harry had to admit to being slightly disturbed when Lavender deflated in disappointment after the charming professor refused to call her by her first name. "That reminds me. You all known my name, but I don't know yours. We'll have to rectify that."

Without further ado, Professor Fitzpatrick went over the roster for the class. He called out the names alphabetically. Harry was tense as he waited for his name to be called, absurdly nervous. However, his nervousness seemed to be for not because the professor cruised pass his name, just like he did all the others.

"Alright then, class, now that I know all of your names, I believe it's time to get down to business," the dark man drawled. In a quick movement, Fitzpatrick had pulled his wand out of his sleeveless black t-shirt and pointed it at Daphne Greengrass on the Slytherin side of the classroom. "Densaugeo!"

Harry green eyes bulged as he watched the girl's two front teeth grow to an alarming size. While Daphne began to hyperventilate, the rest of the class, particularly the Gryffindor side it seemed, began to laugh.

In a flash, Fitzpatrick had his wand trained at Neville Longbottom. "Furnunculus!"

The Boy-Who-Lived abruptly stopped laughing when he realized his body was fast becoming covered with boils. More laughter erupted from the classroom, this time most of it originating from the Slytherin side of the classroom.

Vincent Crabbe became the next of the intimidating man's victims. "Levicorpus!"

Crabbe found himself levitating in the air upside down, seemingly held up by an invisible chain around his right ankle.

Harry tensed in concern when he realized that Fitzpatrick now had his wand pointed directly at his brother, who was having a hard time staying up right in his chair because he was laughing so hard. Not even truly considering his actions, the small teen jumped up, adrenaline running through his veins, and pointed his own wand at the dark professor. "Expelliarmus!"

Fitzpatrick's wand flew out of his hand and into Harry's small one. When the pounding in his ears died down, Harry realized that the class, it seemed, had abruptly stopped laughing and Harry found himself being stared at _again_. Professor Fitzpatrick had a look of surprise on his face that slowly turned into a look contemplation. He then slowly walked over to where Harry stood and held out a hand. "Wand, please."

Not sure if it was in his best interest to give over the man's wand, but not willing to disobey a professor either, Harry forked the stick over. To Harry's relief the man merely used to the wand to perform the counter curses on all of the students he had jinxed. As he did this, he began his lecture.

"I've done this to every fourth year class and above today. I've been sorely disappointed that no one thought fast enough to defend themselves from my spells. In fact, every class seemed to find what I was doing…_funny_. Well, let me ask you this class. What if I was using Unforgivables instead of childish jinxes, hm? Would things be so funny then?"

Most of the students, Harry realized, seemed to look somewhat embarrassed by their lack of action. Hermione's face was a bright red color. Everyone, though, seemed to be holding onto the professor's every word.

"One must be ready to defend his or herself at every moment. You can hardly learn to defend yourself if you only know theory, but are horrible at actual practice. That is why real use of spells will be heavily concentrated on in this class. Knowledge is important, but is nothing without _ability_."

Here, he paused and looked directly at Harry.

"One in this class chose to show his ability today. Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, for being on your guard and defending your classmates. Well done."

Harry allowed himself to smile in satisfaction. The professor grinned toothily back, his dark eyes oddly intense.

The remainder of the class was spent with Professor Fitzpatrick explaining what he wanted accomplished through the rest of the school year and a small lecture on _Protego_, a common shield charm used to block many spells.

The small, black-haired teenager was packing his things into his book bag at the end of class when he felt, more than saw, the dark man come to where he and Hermione were standing. "Mr. Potter, I'd like you to stay after for a few moments," he demanded, before strolling back to his desk.

Harry froze as he was shoving his quill into his bag. He quickly glanced at Hermione. She shrugged back at him.

"Don't worry, Har'. He's probably just impressed with you. You did really well today."

Harry bit his lower lip, not sure why he felt so odd around the intense man. "I hope that's all it is."

"Want me to wait in the hall?" his friend questioned, probably wondering why was so nervous.

Harry was tempted to say yes, but didn't want to make Hermione wait. Harry knew she was already anxious to head to the library.

"That's okay. He said it would only be a minute."

Hermione nodded in acceptance before heading out of the classroom. Nolan was the last one out the door, flicking some of his little brother's hair and muttering "suck-up" before heading out.

Slinging his bag over his petite shoulder, Harry made his way to the head of the now silent classroom. The professor was waiting for him there, leaning back against his chair and resting his hands behind his head. "You impressed me today, kid."

Harry felt his cheeks turn scarlet. "Uh, thanks. It was just instinct, I think, though."

The professor chuckled in a deep tone. "Skilled and modest. _Perfect_."

Harry scratched his head in a nervous gesture. "Well, thank you, Professor."

"Your old Defense Professor, Quirrell, had notes kept about who he considered promising students. You were one of them. I expect a lot from you based on the initiative you showed today. I don't like to be disappointed, understood?"

"Understood," Harry agreed, wanting to get out of this awkward situation.

"You're dismissed, then."

Sighing in relief, Harry started to turn around, but was abruptly stopped when a strong hand suddenly wrapped itself around his lower right arm. Professor Fitzpatrick had reached across his desk to grab him. The dark man was showing off his pearly whites in one of his creepy grins. "Oh, and _Harry_. You can come to me if you ever need anything. Anything at all, okay?"

His reassuring words didn't at all go together with the almost painfully tight grip the man had on the teen's thin arm. "O-of course," Harry stuttered.

The professor's eyes gleamed as he released the boy's arm. "Alright. Have a good night."

"You too," Harry quickly threw the words at the large man before hurrying to evacuate the classroom. Once outside the wooden door, Harry leaned against a wall in the hallway, attempting to compose himself. What was it about that man that freaked him out so much? Harry wasn't sure, but something was definitely _off_ about him. Harry pushed himself off the wall, intending to go to the library and find Hermione, but was stopped from doing so when a large forearm suddenly latched itself around his slender neck. What the hell?

Harry didn't have time to defend himself before his forehead was shoved brutally against the wall. His glasses flew off and pain shot through his head. The teen fell to the floor, barely getting his arms out in front of him to catch his fall before his head could also hit the floor. His ears were ringing, and Harry wasn't able to protect himself before a foot connected with his abdomen. The strength behind the blow forced Harry onto his back and knocked the wind out of him.

Through his blurry vision, Harry could vaguely see three figures standing above him. Two were very large and tall and one was shorter with long hair. Suddenly, the two large individuals grabbed Harry by each of his armpits. He was roughly shoved against the hallway wall. The books in his bag poked painfully into his back. The third individual, who Harry gathered was a girl, marched up to him now that he was pinned. Up close, he was able to see that it was Pansy Parkinson. "Oh, poor itsy bitsy Harry is hurt," her voice mocked him in a sing-song voice.

Pansy's already thin eyes were made to look even smaller as she glared straight into Harry's own large, emerald eyes. "Is the poor thing bleeding?"

Harry absently mindedly noticed that he was, in fact, bleeding. He could feel the warm liquid slowing oozing down the left side of his head where it had hit the wall. "What are you doing to me?" Harry demanded, having no idea of her motives behind this attack.

She smirked nastily. "Teaching you a lesson," she sneered before suddenly smacking Harry as hard in the nose as she possibly could. Pansy was built like a man and Harry wasn't at all surprised when the pain hit him immediately and blood began rushing from his nose.

"Aw, the little hooker isn't so pretty anymore, is he?" the masculine girl mocked before meanly kicking him in the shin.

Harry yelped and could feel the tears begin to gather in his eyes. "What did I ever do to you?" he questioned, having no idea why the girl was acting so psychotically.

Suddenly, Pansy's face was mere centimeters from Harry's. "Like you don't know, you little bitch."

"I really don't," Harry tried to reason with her as he attempted to yank his arms away from the two boys, who he now recognized and Crabbe and Goyle, who were holding him against the cold wall.

"Draco broke up with me this summer," she stated in a cold voice. "He said he had found someone else. Someone he actually loved, and not someone he was being forced to be with," she repeated the blonde's words bitterly.

"Well, I'm sorry," Harry replied, confused, "but I don't know what that has to do with me."

Pansy laughed mockingly. "Don't lie to me, you little whore. I know he's with you."

_What?_ Harry was flabbergasted. He was getting beat up because Pansy thought that Draco broke up with her to be with him? It was official: Pansy was absolutely, completely, and utterly insane.

"You have it wrong, Pansy," Harry pleaded, "Draco and I don't even get along. He hates me."

"He's obsessed with you!" she yelled back, losing any control she may have had. "He stares at you all the time! And don't think that I didn't see that note he passed to you in Defense! His infatuation with you is sick and I'm not going to put up with it!"

Harry felt his eyes widen as Pansy literally started stomping her feet on the ground in a tantrum.

"Draco is mine, not yours. It's just demented. He could have all this!" At this statement, Pansy gestured to her body. "Instead, he wants this!" Pansy shrieked as she suddenly grabbed at Harry's crotch and squeezed maliciously.

Harry gasped and let out an embarrassing whimper. As soon as her hand was there, it was gone.

"Don't think you're getting your filthy hands on my boyfriend. Draco is mine," Pansy said as a final warning before she once again brutally punched Harry in the face. The force of the blow made Harry's head _crack_ against the wall. Pansy's pig-like, bitter face was the last thing Harry saw before blackness invaded his vision and he fell unconscious.


	6. Chapter 6

Making Sweet Lemonade

Summary: In which James and Lily are alive, Neville is thought to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has an older twin brother named Nolan, and Draco wants to shag Harry senseless. Let the drama commence. Oh. Of course, Severus will be in it too. Because I love me some Severus.

Warnings: AU: Obviously. OC: Nolan. But he's cool. I promise. OOC: Because I can. SLASH: Mmm. Yummy. VIOLENCE: Although no paddles are involved. I think. SEXUALITY: Also, possibly non-con. Because I'm a pervert that way. ALCOHOL USE: Designated drivers are the shit. LANGUAGE: Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuck. GENERAL WEIRDNESS: Because we all are. Generally weird, that is.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe no matter how much I really, really want to. However, Nolan is all mine. So there. I also disclaim any poor grammar, spelling. It's not mine. I swear.

A/N: Can you guys believe it? I'm updating within a week! Holy crap! The world must be coming to an end. Seriously though, I was super inspired by all my reviewers and that's what really pushed me to get this out so fast. My love and appreciation goes out to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review this story. Guess what? Draco and Harry actually interact in this one! I have to admit not much plot is covered though. Nor is there much Severus. Oh well, that's for the next chapter. ;) Enjoy.

As Harry slowly came to awareness, the first thing he noticed was the painful pounding near the front of his skull.

"And stay the hell out of here, you piece of shit!"

The second thing he noticed was the yelling.

"You may have Dumbledore believing your bullshit, but don't forget that my dad's an auror! He'll see right through you and throw you straight into Azkaban! You'd certainly fit in with the rest of the filth there!" That angry voice definitely belonged to his brother.

"Nolan, you don't need to be so crude! Honestly, I hardly think he'd hurt Harry." And there was good old, proper Hermione.

"Relax 'Mione. The evil prat deserves whatever he gets. Besides, it got him to leave." Harry recognized that tenor voice as belonging to his redheaded friend Ron.

"Yeah! What the hell is he trying to prove by coming in here anyway? I should kill the git." There was outraged Nolan again.

"Threats of Azkaban and murder are pretty low, Nolan. Even for you."

"What the hell, Hermione? Don't you even care that Har-"

Harry could hear Hermione's infuriated intake of breath. "Of course I care! How dare you? Har's my best friend!"

Not wanting his friend and obnoxious brother to come to blows, Harry forced himself to peel open his eyes despite the fact that it felt like his eyelids weighed a ton. He didn't have his glasses on, but he could make out three blurry figures surrounding his bed. He vaguely recognized the room, what with its off-white ceiling and walls, as the infirmary. The scent gave away the room as well; it smelled of plastic gloves.

"Would you guys stop arguing?" Harry was surprised to hear his own voice sounding so hoarse.

"Oh Harry!" As soon as he had made himself known as conscious, Harry's arms were filled with a bundle of Hermione. Her fluffy hair scratched his face a little and her weight caused his stomach a bit of pain, but he made sure to smile for her.

"Geez, Hermione. Let the man breathe," Ron commented, soundly oddly annoyed.

The girl in question seemed to stiffen in Harry's arms. She immediately pushed herself off him. "Oh no, I didn't hurt you Har', did I?"

The black-haired teen could hear Ron's snort at Hermione' reaction to his words. "Not at all," Harry was quick to assure Hermione, even though truthfully she had caused his stomach to begin to throb in dull pain.

"Who hurt you?" Nolan's authoritative voice caused Harry's reassuring smile to his bushy-haired friend to drop into a frown. Turning to look at the blur that Harry knew was his brother, he opened his mouth to reply. However, Hermione beat him to it.

"What' wrong with you, Nolan? Your brother is hurt; you should be asking him how he's feeling, not interrogating him." She sounded genuinely upset on Harry's behalf. "For Merlin's sake, he' been awake for less than two min-oh, that reminds me!"

Harry was immensely thankful for Hermione as she swiftly snatched what looked like his specks out of one of her robe's pockets and handed them to him. "Hannah Abbot found them in the hallway where Professor Fitzpatrick discovered you. They were broken, but I fixed them for you," the brown-eyed girl explained.

Harry stiffened while in the process of gliding on his glasses. "Professor Fitzpatrick found me?" For some reason, this revelation mortified the small teenager.

"Yeah," Nolan rigidly answered. "Now, who the _fuck_ thought they could touch you and not get any retribution from me?"

Harry knew that being protective and macho was Nolan's way of dealing with stressful situations, but he was in no mood to put up with his antics. His head was absolutely killing him and if had to listen to his brother bellow about revenge, he'd go batty. "Nolan, you don't have to be so-"

The older twin immediate cut the younger one off. "Tell me. Now."

"I don't remember, okay?!" Harry blurted back. He didn't know why he said it. He remembered perfectly well what had happened. Pansy Parkinson had taken her misguided rage out on him. He remembered quite vividly what had taken place in the hallway twenty or so feet away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Still, something inside of him, shame maybe, made him lie. Who wanted to own up to getting beat up? It didn't help that Pansy was a girl. Granted, she was both taller and wider than Harry, but it made no difference in Harry's eyes. People already thought of him as fragile because of his little appearance; he didn't need _this _too.

Nolan didn't seem to know what to say to Harry's outburst so he chose to gaze intently at his little brother instead. Apparently, he seemed to think that if he stared long enough, Harry would somehow remember and give him a name.

"What's the last thing you remember? " Hermione asked worriedly. "Loss of memory can't be a good sign."

"I just don't remember what happened after I left Defense," Harry quickly assured his friend. "I talked to Fitzpatrick, left, and then…I don't know. I suppose something bad happened."

"Yeah, you got the shit kicked out of you," Nolan rudely cut in. His brother was definitely in a sore mood.

"Yeah, mate," Ron chimed in, "your head is pretty banged up. You look so weird with all those bandages wrapped around it."

"You look fine," Hermione quickly inserted herself, elbowing Ron hard in the gut. The redhead coughed and glared at her in response.

The small, green-eyed teen lifted up an arm, absent mindedly noting that his armpit was sore, and allowed himself to feel the thick gauze that seemed to cover his whole head, save for the very top where unruly black curls were hanging out in every direction.

"It's okay 'Mione. Ron's right; I'm probably a sight for sore eyes." Harry's voice was losing its roughness the more he spoke and was almost back to the soft tenor it usually was.

"And what in Merlin is this?"

Harry's natural reaction was to moan when he recognized Madam Pomfrey's dismayed voice. He wasn't the only one. Ron and Hermione groaned as well. Only Nolan, who was remaining uncharacteristically stoic, didn't react to her appearance. "I let you in to visit a patient that's been unconscious for two days and you don't even notify me when he wakes up? I need to check on him immediately!"

Harry's emerald eyes widened in shock upon learning that he'd been out for two whole days. He didn't realize that his head had been hit that hard. He supposed that explained the stiffness in his muscles.

The petite teen in the bed forced himself not to roll his eyes as Pomfrey began to shoe his friends and twin brother out of the infirmary. "Mr. Potter needs rest; he won't get it with you chatterboxes around, disturbing him."

"But Madam Pomfrey-" Harry began, much happier having his friends' company than hers.

"No buts, Mr. Potter. You need sleep," Pomfrey promptly interrupted. The nurse swiftly turned her attention to Nolan before the group left. "Oh, and get your mother, would you? I promised her I would inform her as soon as Harry woke."

Harry's brown-haired brother nodded tersely before turning to leave the room. Ron waved good-bye and Hermione smiled reassuringly before they also left the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey had succeeded in dumping five disgusting potions down Harry's throat before his mum finally arrived. Harry wasn't surprised it had taken her a half hour to arrive because he was pretty sure she was in the middle of teaching a class when he had finally become conscious.

When his mother entered the infirmary, Harry noticed immediately how distressed she looked. However, upon spotting her younger son sitting up in his bed, giving the school healer a hard time, as usual, she seemed to somewhat relax and rush over to her child. As soon as she reached his bedside, she enveloped him into a huge, warm hug. Her embrace was much softer than Hermione's and caused Harry no pain as he allowed his mum to hold him. "Oh sweetie, I've been so worried."

Her voice truly sounded stressed. Harry smiled at his mother when she finally let him loose. She still held onto his upper arms though, not wanting to stop touching her child. "I'm fine, mum. Just a little bump on the head."

The red-haired witch smiled back, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Nolan told me you don't remember what happened."

Pomfrey butted into their conversation at this revelation. "Is this true, Mr. Potter?" The nurse sounded concerned.

Harry shifted in his bed, uncomfortable with having to lie his mother. "Yes, it's true."

Pomfrey's forehead wrinkled up as she took in this new information. "We'll definitely have to keep you overnight then."

"What? No," Harry immediately reacted, "I'm just bruised up and have a few scraps. Besides having a headache, I feel fine." It was another lie, but Harry always had a phobia of hospitals. The hospital wing at Hogwarts wasn't quite a full blown medical establishment, but it was close enough as far as he was concerned.

Harry looked to his mother for support. She seemed like she wanted to agree with Madam Pomfrey, but Harry also knew she was in full-blown mother mode right now. Her baby had been hurt and all he was asking was to be let out of the infirmary by the end of the day. Harry did his best to give huge puppy dog eyes to his mother. She sighed, not being able to complete resist her son's cuteness. "We'll see how you feel by the end of the night."

"Okay," Harry quickly agreed, knowing he was getting a pretty good deal. Pomfrey _humph_ed, but left to go to her office, confident that Lily could take sufficient care of her son. The small, black-haired teen tried not to wince when his mother went to touch the bandages on his head.

"So how bad does it really hurt?" she questioned, obviously not believing Harry version of the pain to Madam Pomfrey.

"About an eight out of ten," Harry admitted. "It's getting better though. I swear if she would take off this dumb gauze it'd feel better. It's so tight."

Lily smiled softly at her son. "Your father was furious when he found out, you know."

Harry's stomach dropped. His dad knew about his condition? Great; as if small stature and sexual orientation didn't make his dad think of him as enough of a girl already. Now he'd gotten beat up. "Why'd you tell dad?"

Lily looked sternly at her son. "Why wouldn't I have told him? Someone else would have anyway."

"You know how _overprotective_," Harry spat the word like it was a curse, "he is. I swear it's where Nolan gets it."

Lily nodded her head. "You're probably right. If it makes you feel better though, he's on some sort of special mission for the rest of the week so you won't have to deal with him until he gets back."

"One less insane person to deal with," Harry muttered, mind still on Nolan's treatment of him earlier.

Seeming to know that the green-eyed boy was taking about Nolan, Lily lifted up her son's chin so he was forced to look into her sincere eyes. "Your brother loves you, Harry. I know he may show his love in strange ways sometimes, but that's just who he is. Never doubt that he and your father love you very, very much. And especially never doubt my love for you, okay sweetie?"

Harry nodded to her mother and then looked down, not wanting her to see the tears she made enter his eyes. "I love you too, mom. Always."

The mother and son shared another long hug. When they finally let go of each other, Lily began entertaining her son with stories of the new first years and how many hilarious incidents had happened in her class so far that week. Harry laughed with his mother, but couldn't completely get his mind off of Nolan's behavior. Nor could he stop thinking about the explanation that Pansy had given him for her violent assault.

As his mom had practically promised, Harry was let out of the hospital wing before nine o'clock that night. Before Madam Pomfrey had set him free, she had taken off the thick wad of bandages that covered his head. Besides a small cut on the side of his forehead and a fading bruise on his jaw line, Harry looked like his usual self. His head still ached like none other and his ribs were sore, but the pain was manageable.

When he entered Gryffindor Tower that night, he had to deal with a flock of sympathetic girls and a smitten Neville, who refused to leave him alone until he literally had to close the curtains around his bed to get the kid to stop talking to him. He refused to show it, but he was upset that Nolan hadn't said a word to him since the infirmary.

Classes the next day dragged on. At least Harry didn't have Defense, which he was thankful for. He didn't want to come face to face with Fitzpatrick after the intimidating man had found him unconscious outside his doorway. In fact, Harry refused to even look at the teacher's table during lunch. Not only was he ignoring his Defense teacher; he was ignoring Pansy and Draco as well. The small teenager didn't want to see Pansy's infuriatingly satisfied smirk, nor did he want to see the blonde Slytherin after what Pansy had said about him. Harry didn't necessarily believe Pansy's words, but who knew if it was some vicious trick or something? As far as Harry knew, Draco could be the next Slytherin who thought it'd be fun to come after "itsy bitsy Harry". It certainly didn't help that everyone in the Slytherin house seemed to be having quite a bit of fun teasing Harry about his injuries.

When Harry's last class of the day, Transfiguration, finally ended, he took the opportunity to ditch Hermione. He loved his friend dearly, but if she asked him how he was feeling one more time, he'd go insane. It probably wasn't the best place to go while attempting to lose his bookworm of a friend, but Harry chose to go to the library. He scoped the large room out until he found a comfy, unoccupied corner to begin his homework. Harry knew he was strange, but writing essays actually calmed him down. He had his Potions textbook, parchment, and quill ready to go when the chair next to his was noisily pulled out. Harry turned his head toward the chair, assuming that Hermione had found him. His whole body tensed, however, when he recognized the blonde that had just taken the seat next to him. Draco Malfoy. It was certain: fate had a personal vendetta against him.

"What do you want?" Harry muttered to the tall Slytherin, surprisingly himself with his confident tone.

Malfoy didn't answer for a while. "Oh, I want a lot of things baby Potter, and I always get what I want. For now though, I'll be satisfied with the name of the person who hurt you. And don't even think of telling me that you don't remember."

"Why? So that you can personally thank them? I don't understand how your brain works Malfoy; you're demented." Harry's headache hadn't faded since yesterday and he wasn't going to sit and take abuse from anyone, let alone Malfoy. Harry grabbed his Potions book, intent on getting away from the blonde, but was stopped from doing so when Malfoy grabbed his wrist. His grip wasn't painful, or even tight. It was oddly _gentle_, a word that Harry never thought he'd be using to describe Draco Malfoy of all people.

Despite his gentle grip, Harry still snarled at the blonde. "Why is it that everyone thinks they can manhandle me? I'm a person just like everyone else and I deserve respect. I'm sick of everyone trying to control me!" The green-eyed adolescent pulled his arm away from the Slytherin and watched as the face of the blonde turned paler than it normally was. The gray in Malfoy's eyes seemed to swirl; he looked positively pissed.

"What, you think I'm a barbarian like your good-for-nothing brother? Or like whoever dared to lay a hand on you? Well I've got news for you, _doll-face_, if I was out to hurt someone I'd use raw magic to do so, not barbaric muggle techniques." The Slytherin's retort was delivered coldly but there was ferocity in Malfoy's voice that made Harry believe every word he said.

"Why do you do that?" Harry questioned, momentarily getting distracted.

"Do what?" Malfoy responded, sounding, but not really looking, annoyed.

"Call me those stupid names? Baby Potter, doll-face, and dumb stuff like that." Harry was honestly curious especially after Hermione insisted to him that they sounded like terms of _endearment_. He certainly wasn't dear to Draco.

"Because I can," was Draco's rigid answer. "I answered your question, now answer mine. Who hurt you?"

"That' not fair," Harry easily replied. "You didn't really answer my question so I won't really answer yours. _I don't remember_. Now, please, just go away."

Harry waited for the blonde Slytherin to move. When he didn't, Harry sighed, exasperated. "Fine, I'll leave then. Whatever." Harry slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to leave.

"Please." The word was said hesitantly, but it still made Harry stop and turn around.

"What?" Harry asked. Surely he didn't just hear a polite word come out of a Malfoy's mouth, especially directed toward his person.

"Please just tell me. I swear not to hold it against you. I just want to help." Draco sounded strangely tired.

"Why, though? Why would you want to help me? I mean, what's in it for you?" The black-haired teen didn't really know what to say to the Slytherin. They had never gotten along. Only that one time this summer had they seemed to tolerate and maybe possibly even like each other. Before Harry could stop himself, he blurted out his thoughts. "Do you remember this summer?"

Draco tensed as their conversation once again took a turn. "You mean when you vomited all over me?" His tone of voice was stiff.

Harry didn't know how to answer without possibly pissing off the blonde who already seemed on edge. "Well, yeah. And you know, before that. In my room." He didn't think he could get any clearer than that. He wasn't about to utter the phrase 'make-out session'.

"Yes," Malfoy answered, seemingly unemotionally. However, there was a slightly huskiness to his voice Harry was fairly certain wasn't there before.

"Were you still dating Pansy when that happened?" He wasn't sure why he asked it. He was honestly curious. Maybe Pansy had found out and that was why she had accused Harry of stealing her boyfriend?

"What does that matter?"

"Well, she told me you two broke it off during the summer." Harry knew he was in dangerous territory, but he couldn't stop himself. He blamed years of being around Gryffindors and their insatiable curiosity.

Still, the small teen wasn't prepared for Draco to suddenly jump out of his seat. "When did Pansy talk to you? She would _never_ talk to you."

Harry was slightly affronted, but remained calm. "A couple days ago," he answered truthfully.

That was when Draco's eyes seemed light up. A moment later they darkened. "Pansy." When the blonde uttered her name, there was nothing but sheer loathing in his tone.

Harry realized what he had implied a few moments too late. "Fuck."

Harry suddenly found himself being pushed up against a bookshelf by the lean body of Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin's face was looking down into Harry's, their noses only inches apart. The blonde's eyes looked absolutely livid. "What did the bitch say to you when she hurt you?" Draco demanded.

"Er," Harry muttered, "nothing important. She was, uh, she was just shouting lies at me." The tiny teen wasn't about to tell Draco that the lies were about him.

Draco's facial expression indicated that he didn't believe what Harry was saying. "Did she talk about me?"

"Um, well-"

"It's a yes or no question, Harry!"

The black-haired boy was almost startled enough to not notice that the blonde used his first name. Almost. "Yes," Harry answered hesitantly.

Draco said nothing after he answered; he only looked into the Gryffindor's face. Harry desperately wished he could read Draco, but he had no idea what that particular expression on Draco's face meant. "She'll never touch you again," the blonde promised, voice softer than Harry had ever heard it.

"Okay," was all Harry replied, every fiber of his being telling him to believe the man-boy in front of him.

Draco seemed satisfied with that response and said no more. Instead, he allowed his eyes to take in the unique features of Harry's face; everything down to the small mole on Harry's left cheek to the fading sprinkle of freckles across his nose, a sign of being out in the sun.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Harry felt his body tense when he heard Nolan's voice. Honestly, did his brother have a Malfoy-sensor or something? The Slytherin finally let go of Harry, turning around to confront the larger Gryffindor.

"We're having a civilized conversation. Not that you'd understand what that is." Malfoy's usual confident tone seemed to have magically reappeared.

Nolan's face twisted at the blonde's words. "First you visit my brother in the hospital wing and then you corner him in the library. What, you didn't hurt him enough when you bashed in his skull in the fucking hallway?!" Nolan's voice got louder and angrier as he spoke. When he had finished, Harry heard some shushes passed their way. However, nobody was close enough to actually see what was going on. Harry wasn't too concerned about it anyway; his head was spinning at the thought of Malfoy visiting him in the infirmary. Why would he do that? Malfoy couldn't truly like him, could he? Harry realized he wasn't nearly as disturbed at the idea as he should have been.

"I didn't do anything to your _precious_ brother, you imbecile." Draco's voice wasn't as loud as Nolan's, but certainly made him sound just as dangerous. It brought Harry back to awareness.

"I going to fuck you up," Nolan promised, hands balled tightly into fists on both side of his hips.

"You guys need to knock this off. _Now_."

Harry had never been so happy to hear Hermione's voice. She must have been in the library and heard Nolan's projected voice. Hermione made eye contact with Harry and smiled. Harry grinned back, relieved that she had such good timing. Draco didn't bother to respond to her and merely rolled his eyes at Nolan as he walked by. He was almost out of earshot when he abruptly turned around. "See you later, _Harry_." Draco put a special emphasis on his name before turning back around and walking away. For his Nolan's part, he showed no response other than to tense up more than he already was.

"What the hell does he mean, _see you later_? And what are you doing hanging by him anyway? Are you stupid? The prick nearly killed you!" Nolan sounded so angry and all it did was irritate Harry's headache.

"Malfoy wouldn't hurt Harry," Hermione insisted, tone of voice confident. How she figured that, Harry wasn't sure.

"Why not? He did this summer. Fuck, he'd love to get his hands on Harry again." Nolan wasn't backing down.

"Draco isn't like that. He wouldn't hurt me." Something inside of him urged the petite teen to defend the Slytherin.

Nolan looked like Harry stabbed him through the heart with that statement. "You know what, Harry? Fine; fucking hang out with Malfoy. See if I'm there to save you when he tries to hurt you again."

Harry couldn't bring himself to stop his brother from walking away. Instead, he settled back down in a library chair, emotionally and physically exhausted. Hermione plopped down next to him. "You alright, Har-bear?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered, "funny how Nolan picks today of all days to go to the library."

"He's just being a prat, you know," Hermione immediately reassured her small friend. "He'll always be there for you no matter what he says when he's mad. I don't agree with Nolan on many things, but what we have in common is you. We both adore you and always will."

"I adore you both as well. He just makes me so upset sometimes," Harry explained in a tired voice before burying his head into his hands. "I'm hardly in the mood to do a potions essay now."

Hermione patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Does your head still hurt?" she questioned, sounding like her usual worrywart self.

"It does," Harry conceded, "but it's really weird, though." Harry hadn't bothered to explain the strangeness of his headache to Madam Pomfrey.

"Weird how?" Hermione questioned, curious and concerned.

"All the pain is built up in the middle of my forehead. It's sort of a sharp pain, not at all like a regular headache."

"Maybe it's a bad migraine?" his friend suggested.

"Probably," Harry agreed, absentmindedly rubbing the middle of his forehead. Neither Gryffindor had any idea how off they were.


	7. Chapter 7

Making Sweet Lemonade

Summary: In which James and Lily are alive, Neville is thought to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has an older twin brother named Nolan, and Draco wants to shag Harry senseless. Let the drama commence. Oh. Of course, Severus will be in it too. Because I love me some Severus.

Warnings: AU: Obviously. OC: Nolan. But he's cool. I promise. OOC: Because I can. SLASH: Mmm. Yummy. VIOLENCE: Although no paddles are involved. I think. SEXUALITY: Also, possibly non-con. Because I'm a pervert that way. ALCOHOL USE: Designated drivers are the shit. LANGUAGE: Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuck. GENERAL WEIRDNESS: Because we all are. Generally weird, that is.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe no matter how much I really, really want to. However, Nolan is all mine. So there. I also disclaim any poor grammar, spelling. It's not mine. I swear.

A/N: Er, to be fair I did say that I wouldn't always be updating in a timely manner, right? Oh, who am I kidding? I'm the worst person when it comes to doing anything in a timely manner. Anyways, I really have no excuse except that college is super time-consuming, so I'm really sorry to all of the loyal readers who have had to wait this long for an update. I will be updating more, but again, I'm not sure when. However, more than anything, I want to thank everyone who's ever read or reviewed this story. I adore every single one of you so let's hope that I can show that adoration better by updating more frequently. On an ending note, I wrote this at three in the morning, so beware.

"Pansy, a word if you will."

Draco used as much restraint as he possibly could as he addressed the pug-faced girl sitting with her group of dorm-mates, Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass, in the Slytherin common room. He watched, inwardly disgusted, as she peered up at him, feigning surprise.

"Why, Draco, darling, whatever do you need?" Her voice was sickly sweet and prodded viciously on his nerves.

"It's a private matter. I'd prefer to speak to you alone." Draco made sure to stress his last word, staring at Pansy expectedly.

"Surely whatever you have to say, you can say in front of our friends," she replied, voice suddenly sounding a bit nervous.

He raised an eyebrow at her antics, unfazed. "I said _alone,_ Pansy."

He forced himself not to snap at her as she huffed childishly. However, she did grudgingly get up from the leather couch she was seated on and saunter over to the tall blonde. Pansy latched onto his arm as soon as she reached him. "What is it, dear? Would you like to go on a private walk?" she asked, making an attempt to sound appealing.

Draco carefully kept his facial expression neutral. "I think that's a great idea."

He watched, darkly amused, as her face stiffened in shock. She must have been expecting her idea to get rejected. The masculine girl, however, was quick to recover from her surprise and plastered on what he was sure she thought was a sexy smirk. Draco thought it was simply appalling.

"Well, let's go then, darling," Pansy encouraged desperately, clearly worried that the blonde would change his mind if they didn't leave immediately.

Draco obliged the girl and walked her out of the dormitory. They walked leisurely through the dungeons of Hogwart's castle. Draco efficiently kept his emotions in check as he let his ignorant housemate babble on about the latest gossip. Pansy, it seemed, was trying to be as pleasant as she possibly could and refrained from commenting on Draco's prolonged silence for the first ten or so minutes of their supposed lovers' stroll. However, after her fourth attempt at flirting, only to get no response, she grew frustrated. "What's your issue, Draco? You claim that you want to walk with me and talk intimately, but you've barely said a word this whole time. This is hardly the way to win back by heart," she lectured obnoxiously, painfully oblivious to Draco's true intentions.

"My motives in wanting to talk privately with you have nothing to do with your deranged fantasies of me wanting you back in my life, Pansy," Draco responded coldly, twisting her name so that it sounded like it disgusted him to even speak it aloud. The blonde teenager decided that they were far enough within the dungeons that no one would hear them. "Rather, I brought you here to sort something out for me," Draco revealed this piece of information casually, as if he was merely asking for help in Arithmancy or something of the like. However, the tension in Pansy's face made it clear that she heard perfectly well the dangerous tone to his voice.

"What in Merlin's name could you need help with, Draco?" she replied tersely, abruptly dropping the sugary sweet act she was sporting earlier. She loosened her hold on Draco's bicep as well, and crossed her arms across her chest, taking on an angry stance.

"Perhaps you could inform me as to how a certain Gryffindor ended up unconscious in the hospital wing on Monday?" Draco inquired, voice turning hard and serious.

It seemed as if this question had fueled Pansy suspicions as her face turned bright red in response. It was obvious to Draco that she was positively fuming. However, Draco knew that nothing she felt could compare to the terrible fury he felt toward her. "Since when did you give a fuck about Gryffindors?" she shot back, carefully avoiding answering his inquiry.

"Who I care about is no longer any concern of yours," Draco hissed in response. "Now answer me, Parkinson," the blonde demanded, consciously choosing not to use the girl's first name.

Draco could hear the animalistic growl emerge from Pansy's throat in response to being addressed by her surname. "This is preposterous! You damn well know how crazy this is, Draco! Since when do you pick the side of a Gryffindor over your own housemate? This fixation you have on that scrawny brunette is insane. I don't even know how the fuck you can even stand to look at that little whor-"

Pansy's insulting words came to a hasty stop as she found herself unexpectedly facing down Draco's wand.

"Choose your words wisely, Parkinson," Draco whispered menacingly. "Now, I'm going to ask you one more time. What happened to little Potter?"

Pansy glowered, but eyed the wand inches from her face warily. "I suppose I have no choice but to tell you," she replied, voice full of resentment.

"You suppose correctly," Draco retorted, the tip of his wand still pointed right between Pansy's thin eyes.

"I just punched him a few times," she finally admitted, blurting her words out in an undignified manner. "I'll confess. I was sick of the perverse attention you were giving him. I know he's why you left me. I thought that maybe if you saw him as the incompetent snot he was, you'd get over your little obsession. I was only trying to help you," Pansy tacked on at the end of her explanation, pleading with the blonde to understand.

Draco said nothing for a few moments and just stared into his ex-girlfriend's face, trying to decipher if she was telling the truth. Finally deciding that she was, at least for the most part, he slowly pushed his wand forward so that it was pressing hard into her forehead. "If you ever touch him again, or are behind any sort of hurt that comes to him, I will put you through the worst sort of pain."

Pansy heard the sincerity in Draco's voice and recognized the words as the threat they were. However, she remained tight-lipped, making no promises of her own. Suddenly, though, her face lit up as an idea crossed her mind. "I could tell everyone, you know. About this little crush you have on Potter."

Draco's grey eyes hardened. He brought a hand up and clutched it around Pansy's neck. He didn't squeeze hard, but applied enough pressure so that the warning was clear. "Use your Slytherin intelligence, Pansy," he mocked, speaking to her as if she were a child, "who would honestly believe such ridiculous gossip? Everyone would recognize you as the jealous ex-girlfriend you are. Besides, on the off chance that anyone in the school would believe you over me, would you really want to be known as the girl that Draco Malfoy dumped so that he could be with a teenage _boy_? I hardly think you'd want your reputation to take such a blow as that."

Pansy seemed to think about his words and eventually conceded that he spoke the truth. She looked more frustrated than ever, but smartly kept her tongue in check.

"Fine, I won't say a word, but you better not tell the professors that it was me who attacked him," she finally countered.

"You don't have any choice but to keep your mouth shut, but I'll agree to your terms of not telling any professors of your involvement in Potter's attack." Draco hadn't planned on telling anyone anyway. Potter was his business, no one else's.

Draco finally let go of Pansy's neck and withdrew his wand from her face.

"Can I go now?" the pug-faced girl asked sarcastically, still eyeing the wand at Draco's side.

"Actually, there was one more thing," Draco explained, voice once again taking on a faux casual tone.

"What?"Pansy asked, apprehensively.

"Everte Statum!"

Draco watched with satisfaction as the girl gasped in shock as she was thrown backwards into the cold hallway wall a few feet behind her. Her head smacked against the wall hard and she slumped down in pain, clutching the back of her scalp. "That fucking hurt!" she whined unattractively.

Draco paid no heed to her whining and didn't spare her another glance as he strolled boldly away from the scene.

Harry stared gloomily out over Hogwart's Lake. It was Saturday afternoon and the sun was shining brightly. By all means, he should have been having fun racing brooms with Nolan, playing chess with Ron, visiting Hagrid, or at the very least, doing something productive with Hermione in the library. Instead, he found himself sitting alone, with the company of no other living thing besides the tree he was sitting under. And trees, Harry thought sullenly, were hardly good company.

For the most part, the black-haired teen blamed his moodiness on Nolan. It had been days since Harry had talked to Draco in the library and his brother still wouldn't speak to him because of it. His twin's silence made Harry feel absolutely wretched that Nolan was so upset, but at the same time, Harry refused to concede he had done anything wrong because, really, he hadn't.

However, there was another reason for the small teenager's distress. His head had been hurting like none other since getting out of the hospital wing. He had refused to tell his mother because he knew she'd blow the whole ordeal out of proportion. Harry talked himself into the idea that the pain would go away on its own, but he was starting to lose sleep over the ache centered in the middle of his forehead. The lack of sleep and surmounting pain were making him very irritable.

Just this morning he had lost it with his friends. Hermione had asked him for the umpteenth time how his head was feeling since he had revealed his throbbing migraine to her. Instead of answering the bushy-haired girl, he had simply stood up from the breakfast table and marched outside. He had then traveled the half mile to Hogwart's Lake and sat himself under the shade of a particular large tree. That had been nearly four hours ago.

At first, Harry found that he was rather peeved at his friends for not caring enough to follow him out. Then, of course, he realized that the reason he left was to be alone. The green-eyed Gryffindor knew that it was rather hypocritical to expect his friends to seek him out when he had made it clear he wanted to be alone. Still, he allowed thoughts of self-pity to enter his mind as he imagined his friends having fun elsewhere, while he sat all by his lonesome, suffering an excruciating headache. He thought he'd be relieved when someone finally sought him out.

His mood, however, got no better, when his brother of all people, showed up to retrieve him. Nolan wasn't exactly gentle as he grabbed his smaller twin's shoulder, startling him. "If you're done being such a baby, Dad's back from his Auror trip and wants to see you." Like his grip, Nolan's voice was rough and Harry was in no mood to put up with his attitude.

"Let go of me, Nolan. I'll go inside to see Dad when I feel like it," Harry responded, shrugging his brother's hand off his shoulder. In truth, Harry was starting to get slightly hungry and had been planning on going into the castle shortly. However, if it was going to annoy his brother, he could manage to stay outside for a couple more hours.

"Stop being difficult. I don't want you staying out here anymore."

Harry rolled his vibrant eyes, and turned his head so he could glare at Nolan. "So did Dad really want to see me right away, or are you just making up stories to get your own way?"

The dark haired teenager recognized a sign of his older brother's growing frustration as the standing boy's jaw began to tighten. "Like I said, Dad wants to see you. He wants to hear from your mouth what the hell happened to you on the first day of school after Defense." Nolan sounded oddly satisfied as he delivered this news. "Dad's pretty pissed and I'm damn sure he won't let you leave until you tell him exactly what happened."

Harry felt his stomach drop when he heard his father's reason for wanting to see him. He had nearly forgotten that his mom had told his dad what had happened. What was he going to tell him? His dad wasn't likely to buy his amnesia story like his compassionate mom had. The anxious teen looked up at his brother and immediately noticed the smug expression on his face. Nolan looked absolutely giddy at the thought of their father interrogating Harry until the truth came out. The intense urge to knock that self-righteous look off his brother's face attacked Harry abruptly.

"Fuck you, Nolan. I'm not going." Even Harry was surprised at the words that came tumbling out of his mouth. Harry was the well-behaved child. He wasn't supposed to be the one refusing to follow the direct orders of his parents. That was what Nolan did.

Nolan was shocked as well. It took him nearly a minute to respond to his younger brother. "Yes, you are," he stated dumbly.

"No," Harry disagreed fiercely, "I'm not."

The taller twin's face hardened as Harry out-right refused once again. "You're going if I have to deliver you myself."

Nolan shocked the both of them again as he suddenly pounced on Harry. The black-haired teen felt panic overwhelm him for a minute, but quickly realized that his brother wasn't trying to hurt him, but rather contain him so that he could somehow carry him inside the school. This realization, however, only made the smaller teenager feel more upset, as his brother was once again trying to control him.

Letting this anger and the pain of his head take over him, Harry fought his brother and actually kicked Nolan a few times in an attempt to get his brother off of him. Although Harry was immensely stubborn, he was simply out-sized. Nolan was larger and able to get a good grip under his younger brother's armpits. Harry's back was pressed tightly against his brother's stomach as Nolan began dragging him toward the castle.

"Let go of me, Nolan! What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry face was flushed as he was pulled across the castle grounds, embarrassed by his brother's antics. Nolan was treating him like some sort of animal!

"You. That's what's wrong with me. I'm going to bring you into mom's rooms and you're going to tell dad exactly what that disgusting Slytherin, Malfoy, did to you." Nolan's voice was deep and threatening as he used his strength to pull his willful brother toward Hogwart's entrance.

"He didn't do anything, Nolan! Why can't you just accept that I'm telling the truth?"

"Because Malfoy's a damned, dirty Slytherin who's probably Imperio'd you or something!"

"You sound crazy, Nolan. Listen to yourself for Merlin's sak-."

Harry was cut off and grunted abruptly when his brother unexpectedly slammed up against something hard, causing Harry's back to connect with his brown-haired brother's hard chest. The petite teenager twisted his head behind him to see that it was a person that his brother had run into. In fact, it was no one other than the aristocrat Draco Malfoy. The lean blonde looked fantastically pissed.

Harry allowed a groan to escape his pink lips. Why did this sort of thing always, unfailingly, happen to him? Whatever was going to go down; it wasn't going to be good.

"You should listen to your itty-bitty brother, Potter. You do look rather unhinged, dragging him across the grounds." Draco's tone spoke of deadly intentions and Harry really didn't want to be around for the argument, or possibly even duel, that was going to take place. However, he was in a bit of a predicament because Nolan still had a firm hold under his arms.

"I can do whatever I want, snake. Harry's my brother. What's he to you?" Harry didn't know whose tone was more fearsome. Nolan's voice had taken on an edge that was more than just loud anger. He sounded completely vengeful.

"Right now, I suppose," Draco started, voice laced with a kind of sick humor, "he seems to be a damsel in distress, being brutally taken captive by his own flesh blood."

Now that comment Harry wasn't going to take lying down. Taking advantage of his brother's shocked response to Draco's reply, Harry was able to maneuver himself out of Nolan's grip. "Do I look like a fucking girl to you?" Harry asked heatedly, truly annoyed by the blonde's description of him.

Draco briefly turned his grey eyes to meet Harry's emerald green orbs and smirked, looking more amused than angry, which was how he had looked just moments before. "No, I can see that you don't have the right equipment."

Harry was rather bemused by the tall fifth year's reply, but Nolan's response to the remark with pure rage. "What the fucking hell do you think you're doing looking at my brother's _equipment_, you bastard?! I'm going to kill you!"

Seeing as Harry had successfully freed himself from his brother's arms, Nolan no longer had anything to hold him back from attacking the Slytherin. Nolan shoved Draco hard and caused the blonde to stumble backward. The green-eyed spectator could see the anger emerge in the blonde's expression and his breath caught in his throat as he saw Draco pull out a wand. He was going to curse Nolan! Harry may have been extremely annoyed with his brother, but he wasn't about to watch him get cursed. Not really thinking about his actions, the small teenager jumped in-between the two rivals.

Unfortunately, Harry had been so focused on Draco's wand that he hadn't seen Nolan pull his fist back to deliver a vicious punch. That's why it came as a shock when a blunt force suddenly smacked Harry so hard in the back of the head that his ears began to ring. The blow knocked the black-haired teen off his feet and he wasn't able to get his hands out in time to break his fall. His forehead burst into excruciating pain as it smacked upon a rock innocently hiding within the blades of green grass.

The agonizing headache that he'd been previously experiencing swiftly tripled in pain and Harry could feel the tears in his eyes beginning to form. He felt like he was going to die.

Harry was only half-aware of the sound of his own scream. He was fully aware, however, of a pair of panicked hands that suddenly turned his body around so that he was lying on his back. The smooth hands were quickly exploring his head, fingers grazing across his forehead and searching through his ink-black hair for signs of injuries. When Harry finally opened his eyes to brave the sunlight, he was surprised to find that it was Draco running his hands over his face. Nolan, on the other hand, was stilling standing upright, looking away from Harry. He seemed to be trembling violently and was as white as a ghost.

"Are you okay?"

Harry directed his eyes to Draco at his frantic question. He reached his own hand up to his forehead and found that only a bruised lump existed where he was sure there was some serious injury. Why was the pain this bad? His head felt like it wanted to explode.

"Yeah," Harry managed to croak out, the sound of his voice finally catching the attention of Nolan's distant gaze. He looked positively stricken as he stared at his younger brother.

"I'm going to take you to the hospital wing," Draco's soothing voice spoke into Harry's right ear.

The small, green-eyed teenager batted away the blonde's hands still roaming on his scalp at this announcement. "No, no, I'm fine," Harry attempted to reassure both of the boys staring at him. Even he, however, didn't believe his words.

"It's just to be safe," Draco countered, trying to convince the brunette to let himself be checked over by Madam Pomphrey.

"No," Harry's voice was firmer this time. "It's just a bump on the head. Really, I'm okay."

The tall blonde didn't look like he agreed, but didn't say anything as the injured teenager slowly crawled to his feet. Nolan, it seemed, had lost his ability to speak altogether so he ,too, provided no objections.

Once fully standing, Harry immediately noticed the dizziness. The small teen did his best to hide it from the two teens watching him and started to clumsily walk away. He didn't like being the center of attention and the stares of Nolan and Draco made him feel all wrong. The ache in his head was truly atrocious and made the anxiety of being stared at worse. Harry was struck by the strong desire to get away from everyone and just be alone to deal with the pain. He hardly noticed the raised voices of Draco and Nolan as they began arguing again as he continued walking away from the boys.

In Harry's opinion, no one needed to be bothered with his problem; he could deal with it on his own. The only question was where to go to deal with it. Harry liked the outdoors so started on his journey back toward Hogwart's Lake. When he was nearly there, however, he realized that everyone knew that the lake was his favorite outdoor spot. Harry wanted to be completely alone. Where within Hogwart's grounds could one go to be completely alone?

Of course! No one would ever find him _there_. He could escape for a few hours and figure out how to stop this painful, raw headache. The Forbidden Forest was the perfect place to go to get away for a while.

Harry knew there were dangers within the forest, of course. In his pained and dizzied state, however, his logic became a bit faulty. He figured since Hagrid explored the Forbidden Forest nearly daily and remained unscathed, he would be fine. He failed to acknowledge the fact that Hagrid was an experienced half-giant, while he was a small, partially trained, fifteen year-old teenage wizard. Nonetheless, he switched his direction from going to Hogwart's Lake to traveling to one of Hagrid's favorite openings of the Forbidden Forest.

Harry was fine as he walked the first half-mile into the forest. However, about five minutes in, the green-eyed teenager was hit with a wave of terrible nausea. After vomiting, Harry felt increasingly dizzy and disoriented. Thus, after wandering around for an additional half an hour, a tired and confused Harry collapsed on the forest floor under the protection of a large oak tree.

It was under this tree that Harry would have his first vision. And it was on this night, that Hogwarts would have one of their greatest panics of the century. Harry Potter had been missing since one o'clock that afternoon and no one knew where he was or how to find him.


	8. Chapter 8

Making Sweet Lemonade

Summary: In which James and Lily are alive, Neville is thought to be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has an older twin brother named Nolan, and Draco wants to shag Harry senseless. Let the drama commence. Oh. Of course, Severus will be in it too. Because I love me some Severus.

Warnings: AU: Obviously. OC: Nolan. But he's cool. I promise. OOC: Because I can. SLASH: Mmm. Yummy. VIOLENCE: Although no paddles are involved. I think. SEXUALITY: Also, possibly non-con. Because I'm a pervert that way. ALCOHOL USE: Designated drivers are the shit. LANGUAGE: Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuck. GENERAL WEIRDNESS: Because we all are. Generally weird, that is.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Harry Potter universe no matter how much I really, really want to. However, Nolan is all mine. So there. I also disclaim any poor grammar or spelling. It's not mine. I swear.

A/N: Alright, alright. I know what you're thinking. I'm the worst procrastinator that ever had the audacity to grace the world with my presence. But, you know, I'd really rather be a procrastinator than someone who gives up. While it is true that, at this rate, it'll take me years to finish this story, at least I know that I will finish it someday. Unless I die, but that is entirely beside the point. I do want everyone to know, however, that despite my utter lack of timeliness when it comes to this story that I truly appreciate all the feedback I get, good and bad. In fact, I wanted to take a second to address a bit of feedback that I got from one of my reviewers. Basically, someone confronted me with the fact that my version of Harry really puts him/her (I'm not really sure) off because he's too weak. I took the time to think about this and feel that I know where this reviewer is coming from. Harry has a lot of people trying to look out for him in this story due to both his small stature and sexual preference. I just want to point out that it is not my intention to portray Harry as weak. As this story progresses, I hope that everyone has a chance to see the Harry that I see: a spirited, young man with a very powerful magical aura. Alright, enough of my babbling. I absolutely adore you all, my lovely readers. I can't thank you enough for putting up my insanity.

Nolan watched, unmoved, as his redheaded friend's bishop smashed one of his pawns to pieces. "Merlin mate, if I didn't know any better I'd swear that you've gotten worse," Ron taunted good-naturedly from his seat across from the seemingly indifferent teenager. "What, you've been taking lessons from Harry or something?"

Ron, oblivious as usual, didn't notice his friend visibly tense at the mention of his younger brother's name. Instead, the redhead continued chuckling at his own joke and playfully punched Nolan on the shoulder. He didn't expect it when, in response, Nolan roughly shoved his arm away and stood up so fast that he caused the chess board in between the two to fall loudly to the ground. The angered teen was well aware of the scene he was causing and that the majority of the students in the Gryffindor common room were now blatantly staring at him. This knowledge, however, didn't stop him from further releasing his pent up frustration on the chess board by brutally kicking it across the hardwood floor.

This immediately snapped Ron out of his stunned silence. "What the hell, mate?" he exclaimed angrily, also rising out of his seat. "You know that's my only chess set!"

Nolan remained unfazed by his friend's yelling. Instead of acknowledging the redhead, he chose to continue glaring at the damaged chess board on the floor. The common room remained silent as onlookers waited for the stoic teen's explanation. "Well?" Ron demanded loudly, his face getting redder by the minute.

Nolan made no move to face his friend. In fact, it looked like he was about to storm out of the Gryffindor common room without saying a word when the entrance to the place slammed open. Not only did the unexpected noise break the disquieting silence that had taken over the room, but it caused Nolan to finally look up, face immediately turning to face the door. Not even a blind man would have missed the hope that suddenly lit up the detached teen's eyes. Then, just as quickly as it came, the emotion was gone. Nolan's apathetic mask slid back on with ease. "Why, don't you know how to make an entrance, Hermione," he bit out snidely.

Hermione, while used to obnoxious comments from her best friend's older brother, was not expecting to be verbally attacked as soon as she walked through the common room entrance. She stopped in her tracks, taken aback for a moment, before opening her mouth to throw back a retort. The tense atmosphere of the room, however, stopped her from following through. She looked suspiciously at the broken chess board on the floor and at Ron's angry stance. She also took in the first and second year students nervously exchanging glances and the seventh year prefect who looked like he was about to pounce between Nolan and Ron.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked immediately, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

Before Ron could get a word in, Nolan was roughly pushing past him. "It doesn't matter, I'm out of here," the tense teen muttered as he also shrugged past Hermione.

Hermione stared as the tall teenager stalked off, utterly baffled by the situation. With Nolan's exit, the majority of the students in the common room went back to whatever they were doing before the unexpected argument that had erupted between the two usually good friends. A few first years, however, still watched anxiously as Ron stomped over to his broken chess board, gingerly picking the pieces up. Hermione quickly approached him. "What was that all about?" she questioned him.

"How should I know?" Ron shot back, still clearly distressed. "He's been acting strange since his fight with Harry days ago. And look! Now, he's exploding for absolutely no reason!"

"Calm down," the sensible witch scolded the redhead for his yelling, "Harry and I can fix your chess game. Why don't you go get him from your dorm room? He can help me fix this and then we can all go confront Nolan together."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Ron replied sarcastically, "except for the fact that Harry isn't there. I thought he was with you."

The fluffy-haired witch felt her heart skip a beat. "What? How could you have thought that? Do you not remember how upset he was with me this morning?"

Ron appeared dumbfounded for a moment. "Oh. Yeah."

Hermione resisted the urge to smack her friend upside the head. Instead, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down the feeling of panic she felt rising within her. "Have you seen Harry at all today?"

Ron looked thoughtful. "Actually, now that you mention it, I haven't seen him since breakfast. He wasn't even at lunch or dinner. I don't know how he does it! Merlin knows I would starve if I missed a meal."

The fluffy-haired witch did smack the redhead upside the head this time. "How can you be so obtuse? Doesn't it concern you at all that you haven't seen your friend since this morning?"

Ron sulked at the reprimand, and immediately began rubbing the back of his head where he had been hit. "Hey, that hurts you know! Besides, I'm sure Harry is fine. Someone must have seen him today."

Without further ado, the redhead loudly addressed the common room. "Hey," he boomed, getting everyone's attention, "has anyone seen Harry today?"

Silence was Ron's only answer.

"Seriously?" he questioned again, allowing his surprise to show. "No one has seen Harry? You know, the short brunette with dorky glasses?"

The redhead grunted when Hermione elbowed him swiftly in the ribs. "That's not funny," she hissed, "Harry is missing and you're cracking jokes?"

Ron was starting to get concerned as he noticed the edge of hysteria enter the witch's voice. "Calm down, would you? I'm sure Harry is fine."

Before Ron got the chance to comfort his friend further, Neville spoke up from across the common room. "I haven't seen Harry, but I heard his dad was here. He's probably with him and Professor Potter."

Hermione felt a sense of relief wash through her body and Ron grinned cheekily. "Told you so," he pointed out obnoxiously to the witch.

The fluffy-haired girl glared in response. "How was I supposed to know? I've been in the library practically all day."

"Just more proof that it's unhealthy to spend time in a library," Ron chimed, enjoying the thought of having been right for once.

"Shut it," Hermione muttered, finally cracking a smile. She then grabbed onto a sleeve of Ron's robe and began pulling him toward the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. "Come on, let's go visit the Potters."

Ron gasped, faking surprise, as he was dragged out of the door and down the hallway by the overzealous witch. "You mean that _the _Hermione Granger, one of the strictest do-gooders in all of Hogwarts, is willing to break curfew. Who would have thought that you were capable of breaking the rules?"

Hermione rolled her big, brown eyes at her friend's antics, but didn't bother to respond to his baiting. She was much too focused on getting to Professor Potter's rooms and seeing her best friend. She didn't have the slightest idea why, but something just felt extremely wrong to her.

Upon reaching her destination on the second floor, Hermione stood in front of the currently empty portrait that she knew protected Harry's mom's rooms and whispered the password in a soft voice. "Credo ut intelligam."

"What does that even mean?" Ron asked as the portrait cracked open in response to the whispered words. "I've never really gotten a good grasp on Latin."

Hermione once again rolled her eyes at her dense friend. "All of the spells we learn are in Latin, Ron, so I guess that explains why you're so rotten in some of your classes."

"Hey! Now just beca-"

"Anyway," Hermione continued loudly, drowning out the redhead's protests, "Credo ut intelligam means I believe so that I may understand."

After her brief explanation, Hermione quickly grabbed the edge of the portrait and pulled it open before Ron had the chance to once again gripe about the comment the witch had made about his less-than-stellar class work. Hoping that Ron would follow quietly, Hermione quickly walked past the portrait and into Professor Potter's living space. She immediately noticed that both of Harry's parents were in the living room, relaxing on the couch together. She also spotted Nolan, or the back of his head rather, on a recliner chair that had its back faced toward the entrance of the room. Harry, however, was nowhere to be seen. Hermione fought down the worry that, once again, rose within her. The witch immediately scolded herself for being such a worrywart. This was the exact reason why Harry had gotten so upset with her at breakfast!

Hermione, distracted by her own inner turmoil, almost didn't notice Professor Potter stand up to greet the two fourth years that had abruptly entered her room. "Why, hello Hermione, Ron," she welcomed them kindly, "what can I do for you at this time of day, or should I say night?"

Before Hermione had the chance to answer, Ron opened his big mouth. "Not much, Mrs. P. We were just hoping to talk to Harry real quick. Is the little bugger in the bathroom?"

Hermione watched as her professor's friendly expression twisted in confusion. "Harry," she began slowly, "isn't here. Nolan told James and me that he was with you, Hermione."

Hermione, growing more upset by the minute, turned to face Nolan, whom, up to this point, had been eerily silent. "What?" she practically screeched at him. "I haven't seen Harry all day! Neither has Ron or anyone in the Gryffindor common room!"

Hermione, too busy letting her building frustration out on the apathetic teen, didn't notice Lily's face go pale. Nor did she notice James stand up from the coach where he had been quietly observing, face warped with worry.

When Nolan didn't respond to Hermione's yelling, Lily questioned her son. "You said you saw Harry this afternoon, right baby? You said he was fine."

Nolan looked into his mother's anxious face. "Yeah," he mutter, "I saw him around one o'clock. Harry was," the tall teenager paused and looked away from his mother, "fine." Nolan was studying the carpet intensely now. "He was fine," Nolan repeated, not sure who he was trying to convince.

"And I'm sure he's fine now," Lily stated, making an attempt to calm everyone in the room, despite her own rising concern. She turned to address her husband, whom looked unsure whether he should be worried at this point or not. "James," she started, "you have a way to see if Harry is on school grounds, don't you?"

Hermione, who was nearly drowning in her own worry at this point, stared hopefully at the auror. "Actually, yes, I do," James stated mysteriously before quickly exiting the room. He was back a moment later with a piece of parchment.

Ron, Hermione, and even Nolan looked confused, but Lily stared at her husband expectantly. James snatched his wand out of his robe sleeve and pointed it at the parchment. He looked up and addressed the teenagers' curiosity before doing anything more. "This is the Marauder's Map. Once I say the incantation, a map of Hogwarts with everyone in it will be revealed. We'll be able to see Harry and know where he is." Explanation brief, but effective in containing the teenagers' interest, James said the magical words. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Hermione watched, slightly awed, as the image of Hogwarts began appearing on the previously blank sheet of parchment. "Wicked," Ron whispered, showcasing his amazement despite the seriousness of the situation. Nolan, however, appeared to remain stoic. Only his mother, Lily, could see the deep interest the teenager had in the map. She knew very well that the interest didn't so much have to do with the map itself, as the fact that it could help them find his baby brother.

James pulled the map up to his face, out of view from the other occupants of the room, and began searching. Everyone watched quietly as his brown eyes darted back and forth across the piece of parchment. Lily felt herself growing nauseous when James remained silent for the next minute, eyes growing more frantic as they searched the map. Eventually, the man spoke. "Harry," he began, eyes piercing into his wife's green ones, "isn't on this map. He isn't in Hogwarts."

With those four words, Lily felt the world around her start to become blurry. She didn't know whether she was going to faint or vomit. In fact, she knew only one thing, with striking clarity, at the moment: her baby was gone and if he was hurt in anyway, she would die. She just knew that she would die.

Nolan, unlike his mother, wasn't so accepting of his father's words. In fact, when James spoke the terrible news, he had jumped immediately out of his chair. "You're lying!" he shouted, voice filled with rage. "You're playing a joke and I don't think it's very funny!"

James, who felt as if his soul had been ripped out of his body when he couldn't find his son's name on the Marauder's Map, stared incredulously at his eldest child. "I would never joke about something like this," he whispered harshly.

Something snapped inside Nolan at that point and he let out a half strangled yell before abruptly tackling his dad. "Give me that map!" he demanded as the two wrestled on the ground. James, an auror who was both stronger and more experienced at fighting than his son, had the upper hand. However, out of desire not to hurt his child, he let the map go before Nolan managed to hurt himself. Both Ron and Hermione were staring in shock at this point, while Lily, only concerned with the fact that one of her babies was missing, was essentially dead to the outside world. She couldn't work up the will to tell the two Potter boys still with her to stop fighting.

Nolan, having managed to yank the map from his father's grasp, stared expectantly at it. He held it not an inch from his face, and James could see the veins pop from his neck as he intensely scrutinized it. Nearly a full two minutes later, Nolan dropped the map to the ground and his anger had disappeared. Now, only pure devastation and something resembling guilt remained. Nolan placed his hands over his eyes, hiding the tears he felt coming on. "Harry's gone. He's really gone," he spoke softly, not willing yet to face everyone in the room.

Hermione, at this point, was nearing the point of hysteria. She had watched, too shocked to do anything, as Nolan had attacked his own father. Not only that, but she could see both of Harry's parents start to physically break down. Lily, whom seemed to be in a state of numbness, looked like she was going to be sick and James looked like, for once in his life, he didn't know what to do. Hermione realized that she was completely clueless as well. She wanted to force herself to speak, to provide comfort to everyone in the room, but instead, she found herself merely standing there, sobbing, being consumed by her own frightening thoughts.

It was Ron, of all people, who remained cool under pressure. "It's going to be okay," he abruptly began reassuring the room full of frightened people. "We'll go to Dumbledore straight away and we'll find him. You guys all know Harry; he's tough. I'm sure that wherever he's at, he's fine."

James, who was still sitting on the floor where Nolan had jumped him, finally stood up. "Ron's right," he agreed, voice noticeably shaky. "You all need to go to the Headmaster's office. I'm going to go back to the Ministry and get some aurors to set up a search party."

He addressed his words to Ron as everyone else seemed too out-of-it to really comprehend what he was saying. "Make sure that Nolan tells Dumbledore exactly where he last saw Harry. Tell him that I'll be flooing to his office with at least a dozen aurors to help aid in the search."

The redheaded boy nodded, a little overwhelmed at being put in charge. James then turned to his wife and gave her a massive hug. Despite her lack of response, he lifted her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. "Harry will be fine," he assured her to the best of his ability, although even he didn't believe his empty words.

James then quickly approached Nolan, whose face was still hidden by his hands. The auror placed his own hardened hands on his son's shoulders. "It's not your fault," he whispered in his ear. "You need to be strong and help your mother." James only let go of his son when Nolan finally uncovered his face and nodded, acknowledging his father's command.

James nodded his head toward Ron to remind him of his orders before swiftly entering the fireplace with a handful of floo powder. He prayed that no one could see his hands trembling as he threw the powder down and disappeared in a small flash.

Ron proceeded to follow the man's orders to a 'T'. He forced Hermione, whom, at this point, was crying hysterically, out of the room while Nolan helped his mother. They got to Headmaster Dumbledore's office entrance in record time and were even spared from having to guess the password when Nolan pried the words – tongue toffee – from Lily's mouth.

The elderly man, for once in his life, was surprised to have visitors. He was in the middle of some intense paperwork when the four burst into his office. It goes without saying that he immediately knew something was wrong. Ron, the only one of the four really able to think clearly at the moment, was very direct with the Headmaster. "Harry's gone. He's not on Mr. Potter's map thingy and Nolan was the last to see him at one o'clock today. Mr. Potter went to the Ministry to get help and told me to tell you that he's going to floo to your office with some aurors."

Dumbledore, despite having endured many jokes about his senility, was a great person to have around for a crisis. "You are sure he is not at Hogwarts?" he questioned the group seriously, looking not at all phased by the intense situation he suddenly found himself in.

Ron immediately nodded. Hermione, through her sobs, managed a squeaky "yes." Dumbledore acted immediately. He walked over to his phoenix's cage and opened the door, allowing the large crimson colored bird to fly out of it. "Alert all the professors, Fawkes," he spoke to the bird. "Lead them to the entrance of Hogwarts castle and have them wait there. I will be there as soon as possible."

The bird squawked in understanding before swooping out of the office. The man then, once again, addressed the group of anxious people in his office. He spoke very calmly. "We'll wait here for James and then meet the professors at the entrance of Hogwarts where we'll arrange for search parties."

No one protested the plan so Dumbledore then moved to talk to Nolan. "Where did you see Harry at one o'clock? Did he say anything to you that may have indicated he was leaving Hogwarts?" Once again, the headmaster spoke in a composed tone, trying to calm everyone in his office.

Nolan couldn't force himself to meet the man's eyes. "I saw him outside," he explained, no real emotion in his voice. "We were arguing and he…well…he fell somehow and hit his head." The teen could feel his mother's questioning eyes drilling into his head. "He was fine," he finished quickly. "He got up and walked away, so he must have been fine."

"Where were you outside?" the headmaster continued questioning.

"Just a few meters outside of the castle's entrance," Nolan spoke again, voice dull.

"It is very important," the headmaster informed Nolan, "that you be able to tell everyone exactly where you last saw him when we get outside."

Nolan nodded, but still didn't look up to meet Dumbledore's blue eyes. "Now," began the man again, "it may not be significant, but you need to tell us what you and your brother were arguing about."

Nolan finally allowed himself to peer up at the headmaster, his hardened eyes betraying nothing but pure anger. "Malfoy. We were arguing about Draco Malfoy. He was there too."

"Draco Malfoy was with you and Harry at one o'clock?"

Nolan nodded. "Yes."

"Thank you, Nolan," Dumbledore spoke kindly, before quickly writing something down.

Not a second later, James was flooing through the fireplace with a large number of other men with him. The office was crammed nearly full as James and Dumbledore quickly explained what was going to happen before the group of people marched out of the office, towards to entrance of Hogwarts Castle. The headmaster was pleased to find that all of the professors were waiting for him where they were supposed to be, generally perplexed about what the hell was going on.

It didn't take long for the troublesome situation to be explained once more and for search parties to be divided. It was decided that no students, besides the three who were already involved, be informed of the situation until absolutely necessary. Soon the groups took off, some heading toward the Forbidden Forest and some toward Hogsmeade. As the parties were leaving, Severus Snape approached the headmaster.

"Is there a particular reason why you didn't assign me to any of the search parties?" he drawled, annoyed. "You know I don't like Potter, but I'm stilling willing to help Lily find her boy. I'm not that much of a cold-hearted bastard."

Dumbledore allowed a small smile to grace his aged face despite the seriousness of the situation, "No, Severus, I don't believe you are at all. That is exactly why I have a special task for you."

"Oh really?" the black-haired man questioned, nonplussed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Nolan Potter, as you know, is the last person to have seen his brother, at about one o'clock this afternoon."

"Yes, you've said that already during the announcement," Snape pressed, growing more annoyed.

"Well, as it turns out, that might not be exactly true," Dumbledore stated mysteriously.

Severus was in no mood to talk in riddles. "Stop playing games, headmaster. What do you want me to do?"

"I would never play games in a situation like this, where a child is missing," Dumbledore spoke seriously for a moment before finally addressing the potion master's question. "I need you to question Draco Malfoy. Nolan tells me that he was with Harry and himself at one o'clock this afternoon. He may have useful information about Harry's disappearance and he trusts you much more than he trusts me."

Severus quirked an eyebrow at the headmaster's orders. "You don't really think that Draco has anything to with the Potter boy's disappearance, do you?" he questioned, incredulously. He resisted the urge to tell the old man that anyone with half a brain could clearly see that the blonde teenager had a huge crush on the green-eyed boy.

"Anything is possible," Dumbledore conceded. "Either way, he may have essential information to help us in finding young Harry."

Severus snorted. "I seriously doubt that Mr. Malfoy knows anything, but I shall question him as you wish," he spat before turning away, black robes billowing behind him.

"See that you bring me that information as soon as possible, Severus," the headmaster called after him, before turning to face the dark, starless, sky. He had a very bad feeling.

Severus Snape stalked down hallway after hallway in his retreat to the dungeons. He was in no mood to conduct an interrogation. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but seeing Lily so lost and frightened had shaken him. Hell, even the clearly distressed appearance of Potter had concerned him a little. As indifferent as he felt about the Potter twins, he found himself wanting to help aid in the search for the missing teenager. He thought that being out searching would be much more useful than sitting and questioning Draco Malfoy, of all people. It was clear to Severus, as much as he disapproved of it, that his godson was in the process of falling hard for the younger Potter brother. Still, he would do as the headmaster had commanded.

He was soon making his way into the Slytherin common room. He was relieved to see Draco still awake, looking like he was working on some bit of homework. He approached the tall teenager from behind and laid a hand on his shoulder. Draco tensed a little and looked up. "What is it?" he questioned, surprised to find his godfather and Head of House standing above him.

"I need to speak to you privately. It's of great importance."

That was all Draco needed to be told. He swiftly snapped his Charms book shut and loaded it, along with his parchment and quills, into his book sack. He stood and slung the sack around his shoulder. The two then proceeded to leave the common room and make their way to Severus's private quarters. Halfway there, Draco decided he couldn't stand the silence.

"What's so important that it needs to be discussed at ten o'clock at night?" he finally asked, voice not betraying his inner anxiety. "What did Father do now?" he questioned, voicing the first thought that came to mind.

"This doesn't concern either of your parents," Severus responded, trying to remain patient with his charge. "I'll explain everything when we get to my rooms."

The young Malfoy heir narrowed his eyes at his godfather's answer, or rather, lack of answer. "What is going on then?"

The teen didn't get a reply at all this time and racked his mind, trying to find a reason why Severus was pulling him into his rooms for a private discussion so late in the evening. "Did Pansy tell you something?" Draco questioned once more, not thinking of any other reason why he may be in trouble.

Severus stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his godson. "No. Should she have?"

"No," the blonde teenager shot back, annoyed with himself for having even asked such a stupid question. "Not at all. I just know she has the habit of spreading rumors that aren't entirely founded."

His godfather raised an eyebrow at his lackluster explanation and continued down the hallway until they finally reached his rooms. He muttered his password – basilisk fang – before entering his living space with his godson. "Sit in one of the chairs," he requested immediately of his godson.

The confused teenager sarcastically muttered, "It will be my pleasure," before plopping down in a wooden chair near the fireplace.

Severus stood in front of him, not bothering to sit down. "When did you last see Harry Potter?" he questioned immediately, a very serious edge to his voice.

Draco was honestly startled. "What does that matter?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just answer the question," Severus insisted. "It's important."

"Why?" Draco questioned once again, this time more defensively. "How is it any of your business when I see little Potter? I can choose to see him whenever I want!"

"I didn't say you couldn't," Severus stated, trying to keep his frustration at bay.

"Then why the interrogation?" Draco shot back, not about to back down.

"I'll tell you if you tell me when you last saw Potter," Severus suggested, not about to engage in an argument with his teenage godson.

Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked like he was honestly debating whether or not to tell Severus anything. "This afternoon, a little after one o'clock, I suppose," the blonde finally answered.

Severus nodded. "Did you talk to him at all? Did he say anything to you?"

Draco threw his hands up in the air, getting more and more pissed off. He stood up from his chair. "Are you serious? What the hell does that matter? Like I said, it's my life and I can do what I want. If I want to talk to my bo-, to baby Potter, then I damn well will! And I'll say whatever I damn well want to him, too!"

"Draco!" Severus finally shouted, his patience getting away from him, "I only want to know what you talked about with Potter because he is missing!"

Just like that, the anger within Draco vanished. His face, which had grown red during his yelling, was quickly turning pale. "What?" he questioned. "How is that even possible? No one goes missing from Hogwarts," Draco insisted, the gravity of the situation not yet hitting him.

"Well, Harry Potter did," Severus said nastily, still upset with the immaturity of his godson. "Because of that, you are going to need to tell me everything that was said between the two of you unless you want Dumbledore to come down here and question you himself."

"What?" Draco asked indignantly, anger returning. "The headmaster wants to waste time questioning me when we could be out there looking for him?"

"Search parties have already been sent out," Severus said calmly. "Your job is not to find Potter; it's to tell me what was said between the two of you."

"Bullshit," Draco shot back. "That's bullshit and you know it. I don't care what you or Dumbledore say, it's my job is to go out there and find him." Draco made an attempt to shove past Severus and get out of his quarters. Severus, however, grabbed him around the waist before he could go anywhere.

"Stop being dramatic, Draco!" the frustrated man shouted, struggling with his charge.

"Let go!" Draco insisted and Severus could hear the sense of panic that was starting to enter Draco's voice. "You don't understand. He's hurt! Harry hurt his head this afternoon. He could be lying somewhere in pain, that little idiot! We've got to find him!"

Severus continued to struggle with his godson. Although the potions master was stronger, Draco had adrenaline on his side and eventually broke free of the man. He wasted no time running out of Severus's quarters, leaving the man helpless to do anything but sprint after him.


End file.
